Pheromones
by remuslives
Summary: Claire's in college with the threat of Sylar looming over her. But what does he want? Sylar/Claire.
1. A Warning

**Pheromones**

_A/N: Written pre-Gretchen moving out._

Claire closed her eyes and sighed; she really hated this class. She wasn't even sure why she was taking it. In fact, she didn't know what she was doing in college in the first place. Once it had seemed like a good idea, but now she knew it would wind up being a waste of time. Pretty soon someone or something would interrupt her new dull routine.

Wasn't college supposed to be exciting? Parties, fun, guys. Instead, her experience so far had been a series of classes, secrets, and lots of spare time. She opened her eyes to check the clock; ten minutes left. Would this class never end? Blah blah blah, something about cell division, blah bah blah. She really was bored; five minutes. Yadda yadda yadda, don't really care. People standing up; time to go.

Yawning, Claire squeezed into the line heading for the door. Geez, what was taking so long? She stood on her tiptoes but couldn't see. Leaning sideways, she saw a group of smiling girls blocking the flow out of the classroom, but she couldn't see what they were looking at.

Finally, she got close enough to the front to see what was happening. Four girls were forming a semi-circle around a tall, dark haired man. Although she couldn't see his face yet, Claire had to admit his body was enough to catch her attention. Not that she was whore enough to stop escape from that dreaded classroom just to gawk at him. She did however, consider joining a second group of girls a little further away still watching him.

Eventually, she squeezed out of the door and made for the small gathering.

"Claire," her name rolled off his tongue with ease. She froze, further blocking the hallway; she'd know that voice anywhere. "I've been waiting for you." He had moved directly behind her now. She could feel him there, hovering over her shoulder.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and turned around. "Peter! Hey! What are you doing here?" She groaned inwardly at the way she had been checking out her uncle, as she hugged him.

"We need to talk." His soft eyes warned that it wasn't going to be pleasant.

"Great," she mumbled, leading him to her dorm room. She was hyper aware of all the girls staring after them. She knew the questions that would surround her later. Locking the door behind them to avoid a nosy Gretchen, she waited for him to start.

Peter sat on the edge of her bed and turned his serious gaze to her. "We may have a problem."

"Of course we do. What is it this time?"

"Sylar."

"Perfect." She flopped on the other side of the bed. "What's he want?"

"Not sure. He's working with a group of some very talented people. They seem pretty focused on you for now."

She felt the familiar dread creeping into her chest. Not knowing what to say, she opened her mouth and closed it again. Why did this always happen to her? And why did it always have to involve Sylar?

"Don't worry; I'll stay close. You'll be fine."

"Since when does Sylar have co-workers anyway?"

Peter shook his head and shrugged. "After the whole Parkman memory loss thing, I guess. Your dad thinks they're the ones who helped him get it back." They were both quiet a moment as they thought of Nathan.

"So what do we do now?"

"We wait."

* * *

Claire drug herself out of her chair; she really should just drop this class. If she could stay awake, she might actually know what the professor was talking about. And while she loved Peter and appreciated what he was doing for her, the female reaction to his presence was driving her mad. Every day was similar to the first; he waited outside of her classroom and girls surrounded him. And Peter, being Peter, was too nice a guy to blow them off; which of course only encouraged them.

There he was now, and unless she was mistaken, Peter was flirting back. Some tarty looking blonde was giggling and holding onto his forearm, much to his apparent delight. Sighing, she relaxed against the wall waiting for her escort.

"Bored yet? I know I am."

Claire opened her mouth to yell for Peter but a hand clamped tightly over her lips. "Ah-ah-ah, none of that," Sylar whispered into her ear. His other hand wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to his warm body. "We wouldn't want any innocent little students to get hurt."

Ceasing her struggles, she allowed him to pull her backwards into a small, dark janitor's closet. Keeping quiet after he removed his hand was hard, but she didn't want to draw attention and cause someone to be murdered.

"We'll keep this short and to the point. Tell Noah to back off or there will be consequences."

"Fine," she growled.

"Such a temper." He smirked and shook his head. He reached a hand towards her hair but she jerked away.

"It won't work you know. Whatever he's doing, he won't quit."

"I'm only playing fair; he should know what he's risking. Besides, the fact that I can get to his sweet little Claire anytime I want, should sway his mind."

"It won't."

"I'd keep Uncle Peter real close than, if I were you. Never know when I'll be back. Or if I'll be alone." He shifted and gripped the door handle, but didn't turn it. "What power does dear Pete have these days?"

Claire snorted. "Like I'd tell you."

He tilted his head sarcastically at her. "Be nice Claire…You know, in your position, I'd take a day or two to send him after an ability worth having. Something that might actually help him stand up to me." He turned away. "Or let him get close enough to borrow mine." He opened the door and was gone before she had a chance to process what he said.

Why did his threat sound more like advise? Of all her…visits from Sylar, that had to be one of the strangest. Seriously, now not only did he work with other people with abilities instead of slicing open their heads, but he also delivered a warning without hurting anyone. He just wasn't behaving in typical Sylar fashion. And it left her a little off balanced.

"Claire? Claire!"

"Right here, Peter." She stepped out of the closet. The tart was gone and her uncle seemed his usual solemn self again. "We need to talk, now."

She ignored the shiver that ran down her back and the feeling of eyes on her as she rushed Peter back to her dorm room.

"Wait, so he told you I needed to be powerful? And that I should leave you for a couple days?" He crossed his arms, leaning against her desk. "That's not gonna happen. He wants me gone so he can get to you."

"I think he pretty much proved that he can get to me whenever he wants." She ran a nervous hand through her hair. "What's my dad up to?"

"I don't know. He only shared the parts that involved you being in danger. You talked to him; what did he say?"

"Not much. Listened to Sylar's message, told me to stay close to you. Whatever he's doing, he's not going to stop."

"Then it must be important."

"That's what he always says. The question is, who is it important to?"

"And who's gonna benefit?"

"So…what _is_ your current ability?"

"Uh, manipulating ink."

"…Ink?" He rubbed his neck and nodded, looking sheepish. "And what are you gonna do with that? Draw a scary picture?" She held out her hand so Peter could absorb her power.

"Funny, very funny." He accepted the offer. "I only need to touch Sylar."

"Which he was kind enough to remind us. Don't you find that just a little bit odd?"

"Yeah, a little," he admitted. "But the guy isn't exactly Mr. Normal, you know."

"I know, but-"

"But what Claire? This is Sylar, we're talking about. What do you think? He was trying to help us?"

"No, I didn't say that." She felt ridiculous because it _had _crossed her mind a time or two.

"Good. He's a killer, Claire. You can't trust him."

"I know that." However, she couldn't help but think of the times that he had been honest with her when the rest of them felt the need to lie to 'protect' her. Frustrated, she knew Peter was right. Sylar was psychotic. One minute he was proposing to her, the next he was attacking her family. She was also aware that he threw her from the room and locked her out. And part of her knew that he was trying to protect her from himself, in his own sick way. "It's just that none of this makes sense. Sylar could've killed me so many times, really killed me, but he didn't. And I know his disgusting reasoning for it, but still, why would that suddenly change now?"

"I don't know and we don't need to know. He's the bad guy and so are these carnival people."

"I'm sorry," she paused, "did you say 'carnival people'?"

"Yeah, Noah said they have a carnival."

"So…carnies…are after me now? What's that all about?"

"Like I said, he didn't give me all the details."

"Riiiight." She rolled her eyes as Gretchen fiddled with the lock, trying to get in. It always took her a few tries.

"Hey Claire," Gretchen strolled in, ignoring Peter entirely. She wasn't happy with their new roommate. Claire had explained that he was her uncle but she still didn't like that Peter was accompanying her to all of her classes now.

"Hey." Claire caught a glimpse of Peter rolling his eyes. "So, what are we doing this weekend?"

She threw a glare at Peter. "Nothing. I'm going home to visit my folks. I thought maybe you'd want to come with me…"

"Oh! Well, I can't really go anywhere right now." She glanced at her uncle, who was shaking his head. "I think I'm going to visit my dad this weekend anyway. We have a few things we need to discuss."

"I could go with you."

"Um, I don't think-"

"You really shouldn't get involved in this. If they think you and Claire are close, they might try to use you too."

"Bet you're going though," she said bitterly.

"Of course he's going. He's my _uncle_ and he's trying to protect me here." Claire was seriously tired of the whole jealous friend thing. She had made a point that she wasn't interested in Gretchen that way. That she had only been a little curious and confused that day in the trunk. What she didn't tell her, was that she completely regretted that moment of wanting to spare her friend's feelings. She had been afraid she would lose her only friend, now she almost wished she had; the girl was a non-stop jealous machine.

"You know, I don't know if I believe your whole 'he's my uncle' story. I mean how old is he anyway?" She stage whispered, further irritating Claire and getting a huff from Peter.

"He's-"

"We really don't have time for this," Peter interrupted. "If we're going to make it to your last class, we have to get going."

"Right. Gretch, we'll talk later. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Later."

Claire ground her teeth in frustration and wished she'd have a new roommate by the time she returned.

_A/N: This is going to be several chapters, not sure how many. Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review. _


	2. Confrontation

Leaving her English Lit class a week later, was Claire's favorite part of the day; it was her final class. She rolled her eyes to see Peter surrounded by the typical young women. He pushed politely passed them to her side, as soon as she was free from the classroom.

Together they started walking to the dining hall, but unable to stop herself, Claire turned into an empty classroom.

"Where you going?" Peter trotted back up to her and followed her into the room. The blinds were closed, as did the door as soon as they were both inside.

"Noah had his chance. There was no need to involve you in this any further."

Sylar allowed her to spin and face him. "I told you he wouldn't stop."

"You did. Didn't he at least send you some extra protection?"

"She's got plenty," Peter interjected.

"Really?" Sylar sounded doubtful, crackling lightening in his hands. He looked Claire straight in the eye and tilted his head. "Ready or not, here we come." His eyes flashed to her left before zeroing in on Peter, who charged forward. She saw Peter crumple under the electricity but turned to her left just as a heavy book flew at her.

The invisible hand lost its grip on the text as Claire ducked just in time. She waited patiently for a clue as to where the unseen attacker, she was guessing Becky, had gone. It came in the form of a sharp letter opener hurtling towards her head, obviously going for her shut off switch. She knew she was too late to stop the blade but hopefully Peter would be able to escape.

A sudden bolt of electricity shot towards her. The girl screamed right beside her; a heavy thud told her that the invisible woman was out. Looking for the source, she found Sylar's hand still outstretched in her direction, Peter grasping his wrist.

Fearfully, she waited for another attack. Instead, Peter went suddenly stiff, and flew back against the wall.

"No!" Claire screamed and ran towards Sylar.

"Stop." One word and he forced her to obey it. He stalked towards her, making her heart thunder. Sylar circled her once, brushed a hand lightly over her hair when he was behind her causing her to shiver. Standing in front of her again, he dipped his head down to whisper in her ear, "You shouldn't linger." He brushed past her and picked up the invisible girl, throwing her over his shoulder carelessly. "See you soon." He exited through an office door and Peter dropped to the ground, unharmed.

"We gotta go." Claire rushed to help him up, careful to not touch his skin. He would need Sylar's powers in the days to come. "Hurry!" Already footsteps were thudding in their direction; people were pounding on the door trying to help the girl who had screamed.

"Door, go!" Peter shoved her towards the same door Sylar had escaped through.

"Dad, this is ridiculous." Claire sighed, looking at the men surrounding her. Noah hadn't wasted any time before he sent a few 'old friends' to help Peter protect her. She was trying to reason with him that she should just go stay with him until things settled down, but he wouldn't listen. Whatever he was up to, he wasn't going to be around enough to keep her safe. "There is no way that they can all stay here in my room; Gretchen is going to have a fit! Plus there's no room. Besides, what am I supposed to tell people about all these guys following me around to classes? Peter is hard enough to explain."

"Claire, we don't have much choice here. You have to stay in school, surrounded by ordinary people is the easiest way to keep you safe. It limits their options."

"They have Sylar, limited options doesn't really mean much to him."

"Claire," he warned in a finalized tone. The disagreement was apparently over because he wasn't going to discuss it anymore. She hated that tone, especially when she was right.

"What are you doing that they want you to stop?"

"Don't concern yourself with that. Focus on staying safe and keeping your grades up."

"Grades? You're worried about grades? Dad, I-"

"Claire, that's enough. Any more problems and I'm going to have to call the Haitian to wipe memories. He's on an important assignment that we can't afford to pull him away from."

She closed her eyes as she hung up the cell. "He changed his mind, you're all free to go."

"Nice try," Peter grinned.

She surveyed the crowd again; three new guys had joined them, one of which was excessively large. "Great." She looked at the tiny room and two twin beds. The door knob wiggled and eventually opened to reveal a surprised Gretchen.

"Hey Gretch, meet my new friends," she faked enthusiasm. "This is Eric, John, and Tirak. They're here to help with the…uh…situation." When she received no response from her roommate, she continued. "John and Tirak have abilities that should come in handy. And Eric has lots of experience with, uh…"

"Bagging and tagging those individuals who manifest significant abilities," Eric supplied.

"Yeah."

"Claire, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course." She was still falsely chipper. They stepped out into the hallway, the only place where there was room to talk. "What's up?"

"Where are all these guys supposed to be sleeping?"

"Well, I'm told that John doesn't sleep. He doesn't get tired. Ever. So we don't have to worry about him."

"And the big guy?"

"Oh. Him. Tirak, he's extremely strong."

"Yeah, I can see that."

"Right. So that's settled."

"No, it's not. Where is he and the other guy sleeping?"

"On the floor," she winced.

"I can't handle this. First Becky tries to kill me, now our room is overflowing with weird men. It's just too much."

"Gretchen, please. It's not going to last much longer."

"How can you know that?" Claire didn't have an answer for her. "Look, I'm going home this weekend. _Again_. If they're still here when I get back, I'm going back to my old room."

"No! You-"

"Then have them gone!" Gretchen stomped off towards the stairs.

Claire sighed, there was very little chance that they'd be gone by Monday. What a mess this was turning out to be. She really wanted to know what her dad was up to. It had to be something big. The idea of Sylar wandering around her college was seriously disturbing. She knew no matter who was with her, if he wanted to reach her, he could. What was worse was that she knew he could force her to go quietly as well.

Which made her wonder why he allowed Peter into the room where they fought just a few hours ago. Why not grab her and go? Maybe he didn't _want_ to take her. That could explain why he seemed to be warning her and not just destroying Peter while he had the chance. Or, Becky was going for her off switch. Maybe they really intended to kill her, permanently.

She went back into her room and flopped onto the bed, ignoring the guys snooping around in her and Gretchen's stuff. Above all things, she was sure Sylar didn't want her dead. His plans turned her stomach, but they did contain a certain measure of comfort. That could be it then; they wanted her dead dead, and Sylar didn't want to comply. That would explain his warnings, and his lack of enthusiasm.

Well, if he disagreed with them, why was he still helping them? Were they powerful enough to scare him? She nearly laughed out loud at that thought. He had taken on Peter at his strongest in addition to how many others with extremely powerful abilities. He hadn't even flinched. It must be something else, then. His original ability was figuring things out; maybe he had a plan and needed to participate with the carnies to reach his goal. Yes, now that sounded like the Sylar she knew.

She wasn't even aware that she passed out, obsessed as she was. Her thoughts converted easily into dreams filled with a plotting Sylar who was the one really keeping her safe.

When she woke, hours later, she shook her head at the insanity that was her subconscious. Getting out of bed, Claire nearly screamed when she saw John looking out her window. He was creepy just hovering there, staring out into nothing, or at least she hoped it was nothing. It was still dark out, which didn't surprise her as early as she had fallen asleep.

Peter was perched on the end of her bed, sound asleep, leaning against the wall. Tirak was taking up almost the entire floor all by himself and Eric was snoring on Gretchen's bed. Claire shook her head, it's a good thing she couldn't see him there, she'd flip. Tiptoeing carefully around Tirak, she grabbed her small shower bag and took some clothes to the bathroom.

She was halfway there before she realized John was following her. She cast him an annoyed glance over her shoulder. She hoped he didn't think he was going to be coming in the shower room with her. Well, apparently he did; he was only two steps behind her and reaching for the door to go with her. "You can't go in there."

"Let me check it out first, then you can have your privacy."

"Ridiculous," she grumbled, watching him disappear through the door. She didn't have to wait long before he exited the bathroom and motioned for her to go ahead. She was still muttering to herself as she entered and headed straight for the showers.

A couple minutes later when Claire started feeling nervous, she laid total blame with John. He'd gotten her all worked up and expecting the worst. Really, what would Sylar be doing in her shower? He wouldn't, it's not his style. Despite knowing that, she couldn't overlook the feeling of being watched. Peeking out of the curtain, she quickly grabbed her towel and wrapped it around her wet body. She could tell already that this would be a lousy day.

_A/N: Yes, I just made up John, Eric, and Tirak. Hope you don't mind. I almost used Ando, but decided to go with Tirak instead. Sorry Ando fans, I didn't want to write him if I couldn't do him justice. _

_Otherwise, how're you liking it? Much thanks to everyone who read and especially those who reviewed!_


	3. Something in the Air

Claire rubbed her eyes, the sun was shining brightly through her open window. John was really getting on her nerves with leaving the windows and curtains open all the time. She hated her new guard; sure they meant the best, but they were constantly getting in the way. And she was running out of excuses to keep them out of the classrooms. Where Peter had been satisfied with just waiting outside the door, the others wanted inside to keep a better eye on her. It was insane and she didn't know how much more she could take. Gretchen had moved back to her old room and rarely even talked to her anymore and that left Claire with exactly zero friends.

Three weeks and counting, she was practically begging Sylar to make a move. The wait was killing her. She was to the point where she just didn't know what to do with herself anymore. Groaning, she drug herself to the bathroom, only to see John coming out after inspecting it. How he managed to get in and out without being seen, she didn't know, but she was extremely grateful. She didn't know what she would say if he got caught.

"Hey Claire," Monique greeted without enthusiasm.

"Hey." She was well aware that the other girls in her dorm were getting tired of the men lurking about it, especially since she never did come up with a good reason for them to be there. She made quick work of her morning routine and headed back to her stuffed room. "Peter, do you think it's over? Maybe-"

"I don't think so. I think they're biding their time, trying to figure the best way around our new force." Peter patted her on the arm and led her to the door, she only had ten minutes until the start of class.

Claire groaned, would this never end? Where was Sylar and what was he waiting for? She walked to class with Tirak standing entirely too close, as usual; the man had apparently never heard of a personal bubble. It was bad enough walking beside him, but talking to him was nearly unbearable; he would stand so close that with a deep breath, their stomachs were likely to touch, and if you took a step back, he would just take another one closer.

Peter was chatting randomly, she had no idea what he was saying and she could see John and Eric hovering nearby on opposite sides. Gretchen walked by with her new crush, Samantha. They had been nearly unseparatable lately and Gretchen couldn't seem to find the time to so much as eat lunch with Claire. She sighed and continued to ignore Peter's prattle on her way to her first lovely class of the day. She was beginning to hate college.

An elbow poked Claire's ribs and she immediately blinked her eyes rapidly, waking up. She looked up at the handsome blonde guy sitting next to her. He grinned as he stood to leave. "Charlie." He offered his hand.

"Claire." She shook his warm hand. She had noticed him several times before but had never spoken with him; he was usually encircled by girls.

"Did you have a good nap?"

"Yeah, actually, thanks." He chuckled and slowed his walk to match hers. Peter moved towards her and she rapidly shook her head no and he fell back a few paces, but stayed on her tail. She didn't see the others but knew that Tirak would be waiting just outside the door to the building.

"You're a freshman?"

"Is it that obvious?" She grinned.

"Honestly, yeah." He was a little smug about that, drooping her grin. It was then that she noticed his cocky walk and the zit on his chin, lifting her smile again. "So, Clara, are you seeing anybody?"

"Nope." She rolled her eyes, purposefully not correcting his mispronunciation of her name. She'd met plenty of guys like him before and none of them were worth knowing.

His brow crinkled for a moment when she so casually dismissed him. "Well, we'll go out tonight then. Unless you're worried about being out on a school night."

"Nah, I'm good." She blew him off, not taking the bait.

"Wait, was that, I'm good and I'll meet you at eight, or-"

"I don't think so, Chuck, sorry." She took an unexpected left away from him into a small lab room. To her irritation, he followed her. She wondered for a moment if she was going to have to call on Peter's assistance. But he was at her side before she had a chance. "Peter?"

She looked around the room and found it abandoned, or at least it was for the moment. It was only a minute before others started filing in. Great, she was crashing a class; she needed to get out, but Charlie was in her way.

"Have a seat, Claire." He stepped close to her and Peter used his abilities to push him back a few steps and hold him there.

"What's this?" Peter asked, still keeping Charlie at bay. Tirak, John, and Eric had all wandered into the classroom. Their eyes were furious, they weren't under their own control. "Sylar."

Sylar came in next, followed by Becky and several other girls. It was a rather large crowd now, composed of specials and ordinary students and one confused looking professor. No one seemed to know how they ended up in the classroom but Claire was more concerned about why they were all there.

"At least Bennett attempted to give you better protection," Sylar broke the silence.

"What now?" Peter asked, little jolts of electricity leaping around in his hands.

"We wait; Samuel's coming." His eyes trained on Peter's hand. "None of that, now." And the blue lights flickered out.

"Why the others?" Claire half whispered.

"Security," Becky answered with a smug grin.

Claire sat on the edge of a desk and crossed her arms, Peter walked stiffly to a chair, it was obvious Sylar was forcing him to. The rest of her guard moved, like her uncle, to sit stiffly in a chair. Most of the others in the room wandered about, trying to open doors and windows, all of which were stuck tight. She watched anxiously as Sylar leaned against the wall behind him; his body and manner was relaxed and casual, but his eyes were sharp and staring at something over her shoulder.

"Claire, you had to go and make this difficult on yourself." Charlie had stepped in front of her now and leaned uncomfortably close to her.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please." She looked purposefully past him, to Sylar who was staring hard at her.

"Things are going to happen now. Samuel doesn't like to be ignored. And I hear he's called in someone special for you." He leaned so close now, that she could feel his breath on her face. "It's not about acquiring you anymore. No, now he's going to embarrass you and torture your father."

"Whatever," she said flippantly, she hoped her face didn't betray her fear at his pronouncement. She continued to watch Sylar; his gaze turning angry. She wondered if this Charlie was making him jealous. If she wasn't so disgusted by the toad, she might test out her theory and see if she could work it into some semblance of a plan. But she doubted there would be time for that. Already, something was happening to the people surrounding her.

Charlie had closed his eyes, as had Peter and several others. Tirak was squirming in his seat like most of the females in the room; John and Eric were both rubbing themselves and staring at the nearest girls. Claire seemed to have a delayed reaction as a tingling was just beginning in her lower belly. Her brow furrowed as she tried to understand what was happening to her.

Charlie however, had no time for her to figure things out. He grabbed her roughly by the neck and pressed his chest to hers, she instinctively clenched her thighs together, wishing her skirt was longer and started to shove him away. The tingling grew stronger and she fought even harder. Suddenly, Charlie flew across the room and landed on a desk; he was promptly mounted by a pretty brunette.

Sylar wasted no time in taking his place in front of her. His eyes were intense and burning into her making it a little hard to breath. She squirmed in her position on the desk, rubbing her thighs together a bit, which only served to make the desire that was growing inside of her even stronger. His nostrils flared he leaned in and ran his nose up her neck making her shiver. "What's going on?" she gasped.

"An ability. The room's full of pheromones." His hand slid across the base of her neck and his fingers began to gently massage her scalp. Was someone now sucking the air out of the room? "I'd guess that the only reason you can resist for the moment is your body's unique ability to heal, must be fighting off the hormones because of the high rates."

"Can't, can't you stop it?" Claire let her head drop back, baring her throat to Sylar's kisses. His lips trailed down her neck, sucking and licking. She moaned as he leaned into her, bending her over his arm.

"If I knew who was doing it." He nibbled at her ear. "If I knew where they were." He kissed her, his mouth moving with hers. "If I could keep any thought in my head besides your body." He groaned when her tongue glided into his mouth, sliding along his.

Claire fought to keep her brain straight as she opened her legs, allowing Sylar to step closer between them and press their bodies tightly together. She grabbed a handful of his hair as another sharper bolt of lust rocked her body at the same time he released her mouth with a grunt. As he moved his mouth back to her neck, she glanced to her left and saw some girl sitting on Peter's lap, his hands on her naked hips, and Claire pulled her eyes away before she saw anymore.

All around the room, people were rubbing their nude bodies against each other. Sylar's hand slid down her shirt and came back out with a breast. "Wait! Wait, please."

He groaned, mouth an inch away from her. "I don't think I can, Claire."

"No, I just don't want anyone to see." She buried her face in his neck, kissing it lightly.

He moaned again and pressed his lips to her flesh. Claire gasped and pushed herself against him, which was apparently the right thing to do because he moaned and pushed back. He tucked her breast back into her shirt, but kept kneading it softly. His other hand slid carefully up her thigh and underneath her skirt to rub.

"Oh God, get, get them out of the way, oh please," she begged, clinging to his strong frame.

"Mmmm…" he hummed against her skin. His hand quickly gripped the edge of her underwear and pulled them down, using his telekinesis to lift her bottom off the table momentarily. He smirked at her surprised face, to which she grabbed him by the neck and yanked his mouth back to hers. She could feel the shock in his kiss before he returned his hand between them.

"Ah!" she yelped as his fingers lightly caressed, making her legs begin to tremble. "Oh! Oh!" .

Sylar grunted, then pulled his face back a little ways to look at her. "Claire, tell me you've done this before," he panted. She breathlessly shook her head, unable to form the words. "Fuck." He stilled his hands and rested his head on her shoulder.

"Please, don't stop. I can't take it."

He growled, "I know. Give me your hand."

"What? Please just-"

"Give me your hand." He grabbed her wrist and pulled it to his jeans front.

Catching on, Claire opened his pants. "Wow." She hesitated to touch, not sure what she was supposed to do. His large hand enfolded her own and showed her how to move just right so that his eyes were closed and his mouth slightly open. She smiled as she watched him enjoy what she was doing to him and then gasped aloud as he began moving his fingers again.

After mere seconds, her body started to twitch outside of her control and her face burned. Then something hot and liquid exploded in her lower abdomen, causing her back to arch and an unbidden cry to escape her lips. She was vaguely aware of something warm gushing onto her hand.

She opened her eyes and looked into the soft pair gazing back at her. If she had thought that would be it, she was wrong. The pheromones were still clouding the air and she knew she needed more.

A/N: dun dun dun, green giant. Er, what? never mind. So…please review and let me know what you're thinking.

Thanks for reading!


	4. All the Way

When Sylar remained unmoving, she could feel the desperation creeping up on her again. He had closed his eyes, breathing roughly. Claire wiggled her hips and when that got no response, she moved her hand just as he had shown her. She grinned when his jaw tightened and the hand at her hip squeezed.

"Stop, Claire," he ground out.

"I don't want to stop." She palmed his cheek. He leaned into her touch, still not opening his eyes. "Please?"

He moaned and started to wiggle his fingers again. Claire gasped as her head dropped back, a deep shudder racked her body.

She didn't have time to be embarrassed as her vision went black with fireworks. Sylar's brow furrowed in utter concentration.

Claire tried to catch her breath and clam her body down. But, it was still humming from desire. Unable to verbalize her need, she alternately clung to him desperately and shoved his chest away. Confused, he stilled his movements with a groan and gritted teeth.

"Too much?" His voice was raw.

"Not enough," she complained, pulling him close again.

He nodded to himself and lightly pushed her backwards, so that she lay on the desk.

"But I can't reach." His hips were much too far away.

"Hush," he whispered, an inch from her lips. Was this is then? Was he going to take her virginity? She couldn't help but hope he would.

Sylar closed the short distance between them with a soft kiss, barely parting her lips. Despite Claire's protest, he moved his body away from hers, standing between her legs. Grasping each ankle, he helped her place her feet on the desk, knees bent.

Watching her closely, enjoying the way she was also watching him, he knelt down, the perfect height. She began to tremble, whether from nerves or anticipation, he didn't know. Gently, he kissed the inside of her knees, making her whimper. Slowly, he slid his lips up her thighs.

"Aaahhhh!" She gripped his hair, body quivering.

He always knew she would be perfect. Now, he just had to figure out a way to keep her. He wasn't sure if this experience would help or hinder his cause.

"Sy-Sylar," she gasped, pulling his hair. He wiped the smirk off his face before standing up. He was vaguely aware of several couples that had apparently passed out, unable to take anymore. He was annoyed to see Peter was not one of them. He was still busy with two different women. "Please," Claire's begging tone drew his full attention back to her. He cocked his head, waiting for the girl to elaborate. "Please. It's not enough. I need more."

Her eyes were fastened on his manhood and she licked her lips. Sylar groaned, he was really trying to resist what he so desperately wanted. He didn't want her to hate him when this was over.

Sylar snorted at himself and Claire's expression drooped, her eyes coming up to meet his. "You…you don't want me?"

He blinked rapidly, understanding what she read into his reluctance and moment of self ridiculing humor. "Of course I do." He kissed her neck and nibbled on her ear lobe. "You're everything that I want," he whispered so she alone could hear him.

She grabbed the front of his shirt, getting right in his face. "Then take me," she half snarled, half pleaded.

He stared into Claire's lust-filled eyes, losing the war to not ravage her completely. Giving in, he decided to make it as easy as possible for her. Feeling the change bubble down his body, Sylar ignored the pain.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, frozen.

"Being what you want," he hated the weak voice that accompanied Charlie's body. Claire simply shook her head and he began the change into the next body he thought that she might want, Hiro Nakamura. Again, she appeared shocked, so he changed once more.

"Ew! Parkman?"

"You always seemed fond of him," Matt's voice offered with a shrug.

"Fond does not mean attracted to. Plus he's married. Gross."

"Then tell me who you want me to be." He turned his face half away from her.

"Just…just be you. Be Sylar."

Swallowing roughly, he let his true self out on the surface again. His head felt a little floaty as a new wave of pheromones seemed to be unleashed upon him; Claire must have felt it too because she whimpered and pushed her body against his.

"You're sure about this? I think I can resist a little longer." He wasn't sure if the statement was true, but he was willing to try. Most of the others in the room had already passed out, spent. But not Peter, although he was now down to one woman.

"I can't." She pulled his lips to hers, slipping her tongue inside of his mouth, gliding it along his.

Cautiously, wishing it was 'real', Sylar moved forward. Claire mewed into his mouth, body wiggling, ever impatient and then gasped, parting their lips.

Sylar closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her. He forced his breath to even out, calming himself before he lost complete control.

Claire moaned, her voice increasing in volume and breathlessness. When she sank fingernails into his covered shoulders, he expected an almighty scream to rip from her chest, but instead she buried her face in his neck, shuttering so hard no sound could escape her constricted throat.

"God. Oh god," she panted as she came back to herself, holding him close.

Unwilling to move, he rested heavily atop her still clothed form. Sylar pressed a soft kiss just behind her ear, smiling when she sighed and ran her fingers lazily through his sweaty hair.

The still-aware portion of his brain informed him that all but the two women in the far corner had fallen asleep and that the pheromones appeared to be stopped. Footsteps approached, warning him it was time to put his mask back on and get to work. Irritated that he had failed in his attempt to protect her from capture, he shifted to Plan B.

Claire knew it wouldn't be long until this sweet, caring man that had absolutely made love to her, denied it as just a fuck. But, she had seen him without his guard up now. She was sure that whatever was going on, no matter what happened next, Sylar did care for her. All she had to do was endure and be patient and she was positive he would keep her safe.

**A/N: Sorry that took so long, my muse and I had a falling out. But things are all patched up now. I don't know how long it will be until the next one's up because of what time of year it is. I'll do my best to get it done soon though. **

**Thanks so much for reading! Don't forget to review.**


	5. Van Ride

Sylar was exhausted; he wanted more than anything, to just curl up with Claire and fall asleep. He kissed just under her ear, savoring the memories; it would be a very long time before he would be able to progress things so far again. He both heard and felt Claire sigh into his shoulder. He froze as she nuzzled the place where his shoulder and neck met, kissing the same spot softly.

"They're coming," he whispered.

"I know." Her hands tightened momentarily.

"I can't be Gabriel anymore." He squeezed her one more time before pushing away from her abruptly. He stood carefully between her and the door, blocking their view of her beautiful body.

Cheeks turning pink, Claire quickly adjusted her clothes and slid her panties back on, fully aware of Sylar's gaze on her body. She tried not to watch him push himself back into his tight jeans and zip them up.

Just as the door opened, Sylar used his abilities to control her body; he walked her towards him. His nose flared and his eyes closed briefly as Samuel entered the room. Quickly shifting personalities, Sylar recovered his smirk and amused eyes, and then turned to address the older man.

"Samuel, you should have warned me about this little…show. Whose the hormonally gifted carnie?"

Samuel frowned. "I've asked you to not refer to us as 'carnies'. I had thought you'd be more cooperative, now that you're one of us.

Sylar shrugged indifferently. He didn't really care which of them held the power, it didn't interest him; he just wanted Claire to know he wasn't in on that planning.

"Now, Miss Bennett, let's take this conversation somewhere a little more private. We wouldn't want your uncle waking up and getting himself hurt trying to save you. Alice," he called.

The pretty blond from the corner left her exhausted partner, picking up a skimpy dress on the way and pulling it on. The girl left behind whimpered and collapsed.

He recognized the girl as the one to distract Peter, the first time he had spoken to Claire. That explained how she was able to get the protective uncle's mind off of his niece. She winked at him, misunderstanding his interest.

Sylar made Claire comply with Samuel, surprised to note she wasn't fighting his control. But as her eyes lingered on the sleeping Peter, he didn't have to question why. Their willingness to dive headfirst into dangerous situations for each other brought about a pang of envy. What he wouldn't give to receive that sort of devotion.

Claire sighed as she allowed Sylar to force her out the door. She really hoped they would choose a non strenuous activity, she was exhausted; she snorted at the idea of napping while they tortured her. She was so tired of the constant drama; what she wouldn't give for a year of nothing but school work and relaxing movies.

Stepping outside the building, Claire raised surprised eyebrows. Samuel seemed to catch her moment of pause.

"Normally, I have a much quicker, more efficient mode of travel. But, considering our numbers today," he dropped off, gesturing to the brightly colored van.

Claire cleared her throat, willing herself not to laugh aloud; she didn't know Samuel's temperament well enough to mock him so close to her family. She and Sylar reached the door first and he prodded her in, turning her to the back row of seats.

"You can let go. What am I gonna do?" Claire whispered, sitting in the middle of the bench seat.

"Not sure," Sylar answered as her body came back under her own control. "You're creative when you plot against me."

She crossed her arms, ignoring his amusement. A short man supporting Charlie, climbed in next, shoving the half dressed man beside her. Claire groaned quietly and scooted discreetly closer to Sylar, who raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. The short man turned to help a weak Becky in next and settled down beside her in the middle row.

A second man she didn't recognize climbed into the driver's seat, followed by Samuel in the passenger side. Then, Alice slid in and let her gaze drift over them all, landing on Sylar.

"Looks like we're gonna have to double up." She slithered up to Sylar. Claire rolled her eyes, not sure the woman's Southern accent was genuine.

"Buckle up kids," Samuel announced from the front. At his gesture the driver hit the pedal, lurching the van forward and Alice into Sylar's lap.

Instead of turning around, the scantily clad woman straddled his lap. She rested her hands on his chest and leaned into him. He, on the other hand, remained neutral, one arm resting beside the window, the other on the back of the seat behind Claire.

She wanted to turn away, so as not to see anything that may happen between them, but to do that would put her face-to-face with a lightly snoring Charlie. So, she settled for silently hoping she wouldn't catch anything out of her peripheral view.

She wanted to gag when the woman started purring in Sylar's ear. How could she even want more? They had spent way too long locked in that room. Maybe she couldn't control her own pheromone levels and they were stuck on high?

They hadn't traveled long before the men in front began to shift noticeably and Samuel cleared his throat. "That's enough, Alice."

She shifted her position on Sylar's lap to look over her shoulder at the older man. "You interrupted me; I wasn't finished." She turned back to Sylar. "Just roll down your window."

Sylar still casually ignored her when she wiggled against him; he stared out the window as if unaware of her presence. Claire felt the now familiar tingle in her lower abdomen and bit her lip against the sensation.

"Come on, baby. I know you got more in you," she pleaded, rubbing against him. At last, he turned cold eyes on her. Alice froze, hand an inch from his pants.

"I'm not a toy," he said softly, removing her hands from his body. "Go find another playmate." He slid her off of his lap and onto the floor, turning his face back to the window.

Claire couldn't help herself; she laughed at the look on the girl's face. She looked as though she had never been turned down before. Given her ability that was probably true. Alice's embarrassment turned to anger as she narrowed her eyes at Claire.

"Don't push me, little girl," Alice growled, moving to Charlie's lap. "I can make you so desperate for it, that you'll give yourself to anyone."

Claire rolled her eyes and looked pointedly away. She could see Alice fluff her hair and slap Charlie's chest.

"Wake up, Charlie." The teasing note in her voice all but gone. "You, me and Travis are gonna have some fun."

"Oh no; not me," Travis denied quickly. "My wife would not be amused."

"Your wife?" she sneered. "Please. I'm the perfect excuse to have an affair. You simply couldn't help yourself." She reached to touch him, but he jerked away.

"You think that would make a difference? Besides, she'd burn your ass." He chuckled and leaned closer to the open window.

"Fine. Just you and me, Charlie." She slapped his cheek hard. "Wake up!"

"Tired," Charlie croaked.

"Samuel," Alice whined, kicking up her chemical output.

The older man sighed and unfastened his seat belt. "Travis, help Eli get us back?"

"Sure, boss." They traded seats.

"Come here, love."

She smiled as she approached him, tugging her dress up and off. Claire turned wide eyes away from the scene, staring out the window beside Sylar. Unfortunately, she could still see some of what was going on out of the corner of her eye, not to mention hear it.

She shifted as the pheromone wave hit her, now that she was expecting it, it wasn't as bad; but it wasn't easy to ignore. In fact, she held as still as possible, sure if Sylar so much as looked in her direction, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from mauling him. What she wouldn't give for some fresh air.

Another wave washed over her and she whimpered quietly, closing her eyes and squeezing her fists, nails biting into her palms. A soft hand cupped her cheek and ran down her neck, shoulder, and arm. It skipped over to her waist and its match joined it there. Together, the hands lifted and guided her onto a comfortable lap.

Sylar stroked her cheek when she leaned back against him. His legs shifted beneath her, moving between hers so he could part them slightly, but not so much that anyone could see up her skirt. Not that Claire cared at that particular moment. All that mattered was Sylar's hands. One had made its way between her legs, the other had snaked up her shirt .

Sylar played Claire's body perfectly, she was so easy to read like that. No guesswork needed; his ability and her body told him everything he needed to know.

Since he was prepared for the pheromone spike, it had no effect on him. Claire rubbing her little bottom on him, however, was a whole different story. But, he could wait. He wouldn't fuck her the way Samuel was doing Alice; she deserved better.

He caught eyes on them and flicked his wrist, making Claire gasp. He smirked at Eli's irritation at not being able to watch them in his rear view mirror.

Pheromones were still heavy in the air, but Claire fell into an exhausted slumber, not moving from his lap. Sighing a little, Sylar removed his hands from her clothing and decided to act like a seatbelt, holding her sweet body closer than necessary.

**A/N: Did anyone else fan girl squeal at the preview for next week's episode? I am still all giddy and bouncy when I think about it. I cannot wait!**

**So, thanks for reading guys! Please review and let me know what you think. What you'd like to see happen, what your favorite part was, whatever. Thanks!**


	6. Comfort in Strange Places

A few hours into the ride, Claire woke up, shifting on the soft pillow beneath her. She blinked, mind waking up a little slower; she didn't have a pillow. She was in the carnies' van. So what…? Strong arms squeezed her, urging her into a more supported position.

"Sylar?" she whispered.

"Who else?" he spoke softly into her ear. "Are you really awake this time?"

"I think so," she answered uncertainly. Where were they? She glanced around the dark interior. Becky was still sleeping, as was Charlie. Eli sipped coffee from the driver's side while he flipped through radio stations.

The others were returning from a small, well lit building, a gas station. Suddenly, her bladder felt as if it was ready to burst. She tried to stand, but his arms held her pinned to his chest.

"I have to pee."

"Just remember, one wrong move or word and your body's mine." He relinquished his hold on her.

"I know," she sighed, knowing there wasn't going to be any escape; at least not yet.

He followed her in, waiting patiently outside the bathroom door for her. When she exited to the main shop, he blocked her path, standing entirely too close.

"You're mine. That's the deal. No one else touches you or I leave Samuel's little freak show." She snorted and tried to dodge around him, but he grabbed her waist. "I have things to do, plans to accomplish. Don't mess this up for me."

"Excuse me?!" She rounded on him. "I was perfectly fine back at my college. I didn't ask to come on this little _trip_.

"Samuel wants you."

"Why?" "He has his own plans."

"For me?" He tilted his head with a bland look. "My dad." His unconcerned expression confirmed what she should've known.

"Look, Claire. It's not a hard role to play. You hate me, don't trust me, and you never want me to touch you again. Just be yourself and you'll do fine."

"And what roll will you be starring in?" she asked bitterly.

"Sylar." He paused. "Travis is coming. Get whatever you want." He headed straight for the coffee machine.

Claire gritted her teeth in frustration, but grabbed a soda from the cooler and a bag of chips. "Now what?" She walked up behind him. "Do we make a run for it?" she asked snidely.

"Don't be so dramatic." He led her to the register, where the pretty cashier smiled flirtatiously at him. He passed her the cash, seemingly oblivious to her gaga eyes. They climbed in the van, Sylar first and Claire glared at Alice in her seat. Grinding her teeth, she turned and dropped onto Sylar's knees.

His arm snaked around her middle and pulled her back so she was on his lap, back pressed to his chest. Then, and she was sure he only did it to annoy her, he spread his legs, dropping her abruptly to the seat beneath them. And she wasn't sure what was worse, sitting on his groin with full knowledge of what happened only hours before…twice, or having his legs wrapped around her, pressing against her, all the way to their feet.

She sat up as best as possible, trying to put a little space between them. She was surprised when he allowed it, and merely sipped his coffee. She ate her chips in silence, ignoring the way Sylar's hand would occasionally dip into her bag. However, when a petite hand reached for some, she quickly squeezed it shut, throwing Alice a faux sympathetic smile.

"Just trying to help you keep your figure." Alice narrowed her eyes at Claire's comment.

"Be nice, Claire," Sylar hummed in her ear.

"Hypocrite," she muttered.

"I thought you weren't a plaything?" Alice crossed her arms, pushing up her full breasts.

Instead of responding verbally he took control of Claire's body, forcing her to rub against him. She gritted her teeth when he made her hand fondle her own breast. "What makes you think _I'm _the toy?" He relinquished his hold on her and Claire rammed an elbow into his firm gut. He puffed out a breath, but recovered quickly with a smirk, holding Claire immobile while he kissed her neck.

"Let me go," she ground out, through her teeth.

"Never," he promised. He sounded so sincere, Claire closed her eyes and fought to compose herself. Then, he chuckled darkly and removed all his control from her body.

"You're a master," Alice gushed. What an idiot to hero-worship Sylar. "Just think what you and I could accomplish together."

He merely stared at her for a moment. "What do I need you for?"

"My power. We'd be perfect for each other." She moved close to him, lying her hand on his thigh, as if Claire wasn't sitting between his legs. By the look on her face, Claire was certain she'd soon be experiencing another pheromone high.

He dipped his head close to hers, so their faces were only inches apart. Claire felt a little queasy, Sylar's bizarre obsession with her was her only safety net; if he fell for the tramp's seduction, her future was even more uncertain. She held her breath, when he spoke in a low voice. "If I want your ability, I'll take it."

Claire let out a long, shaky breath. She relaxed back into his warm body and oddly felt a slight comfort when his legs put minimal pressure on hers. His hand moved to rest on her hip, giving it a gentle squeeze. With a quiet sigh, she turned her face to the window to watch the countryside roll by.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sylar doing the same. She spent the next hour or so watching him, as opposed to the ever brightening world. He was so quiet, so calm. His dark eyes not full of the rage that had once lived there. What had happened to dim that fury? She wouldn't kid herself; it wasn't gone, not entirely. She had caught a glimpse of it again when Alice teased him.

Claire knew from experience, that it wasn't in one's best interest to tease Sylar. Sure, she pushed him on occasion, but she virtually indestructible; that was different.

Her eyes were getting heavy again, when they pulled into a small town restaurant. Yawning, Claire climbed stiffly off of his lap, following the others out of the cramped van. They each headed into the somewhat busy building, but Samuel waited, letting them all pass except for Claire. Sylar stopped in her shadow but kept his eyes on the others disappearing inside.

"Now Claire, I just want to make it absolutely clear, that I will not permit any attempts at escape." Samuel eyed her carefully. "I don't want to hurt all these innocent families. But I will."

She narrowed her eyes at the older man. All the threats were getting on her nerves. As if she would endanger so many people to try an escape that would never work, especially with Sylar playing puppet master. Looking away from him, she nodded and moved forward, both men flanking her.

The others were already seated when they arrived. Sitting closely in the long booth, they looked happy, comfortable together as they laughed. Claire was reminded of why she had been attracted to their lifestyle earlier. Reachi8ng the long, circular booth, Samuel slid in first, then Sylar shoved her in beside him, while he took the edge.

She was uncomfortable, squeezed between the two men, both of them pressing against her sides. Everyone else appeared at ease, looking through menus, pressed together. Charlie kept looking at her, making her even more ill at ease. She squirmed in her seat, unable to concentrate on the menu in front of her.

"Hi, my name's Sylvia; I'll be your waitress this morning. What can I get y'all?" The pretty brunette smiled at each of the men, her eyes skipping easily over Claire, Alice, and Becky.

"Yeah, I'd like the ham and cheese omelet with hash browns and orange juice." Eli was the first to order. They went down the line making it easy on the waitress to remember the order.

Samuel had just finished his order and Claire was still staring at the menu, undecided. They all waited expectantly, Samuel a little suspicious, each one staring at her. "Um, I'll have…uh…" Nothing looked good; she was hungry, but just couldn't find anything that sounded appetizing.

"She'll have the pancakes, small order, hash browns and OJ I'll have the same but with coffee. And could you warm the syrup before you bring it, please?" Sylar took the menu from her hands and stacked it with the rest.

"Coming right up," Sylvia posed sideways for them, which Eli and Travis both seemed to appreciate.

Claire sat still and annoyed, both because Sylar had ordered from her and because what he picked actually sounded good. She crossed her arms, wishing she could stab Charlie in the eyes with a fork. Completely unaware that she was fingering said weapon, she glared at the very handsome young man. Apparently reading her desires, Sylar subtly took both her knife and fork, resting them closer to his side.

"Wasn't gonna do it," she grumbled.

"Why tempt fate?" Sylar remarked, showing her half a grin.

"Might be fun."

"Entertaining at the very least."

"Remember where we are," Samuel interrupted, as if they were seriously discussing maiming Charlie at the breakfast table.

Nervous with Sylar's hard gaze on him, Charlie finally stared at Alice instead. Claire had no doubt that he had known precisely what was going to happen back in that classroom, and he had positioned himself to take full advantage of Claire. She wouldn't be forgetting that any time soon. Sylar may believe that the others wouldn't touch her, but she recognized the way they watched her. She was faire game as soon as her side was Sylar free. Well, that just meant, she had to stick to him like glue.

**A/N: Hey, thanks for reading! I appreciate you all keeping interest. Don't forget to review!**


	7. Known Enemy

Claire swallowed her last bit of juice, only Eli and Samuel still ate. She was eager to move on; patience was never one of her strong suits. She wanted to know where they were taking her and what they planned to do with her once they got there. Plus, there was Sylar; why was he with them? What was he hoping to gain?

The irritating waitress returned adn she had to force down a groan. The woman had been by the table at least fifteen times, always eager to satisfy the men, Sylar in particular. Every time he took a sip of coffee, there she was, offering a refill. Okay, maybe that was a little exaggerated, it could be after every third sip.

"Can I getcha a refill?" She held the pot poised above his cup.

"No thank you," Sylar answered with a shake of his head.

"Anything else, I can getcha? Anything at all?" She smiled widely at Sylar, lightly touching his shoulder.

"The check." He looked up at her steadily and the waitress lost her nerve.

"Right away." She dropped her hand from him and hurried away.

"What'd you go and do that for?" Eli complained.

"Everyone's done eating."

"That aint what I meant and you know it."

"She was suspicious. She was continually at our table and she made a visible effort to not be seen staring at the van."

"She wasn't being suspicious. She was looking for a good time."

Sylar ignored the retort and instead sat quietly observing Sylvia.

"Wouldn't know what to do with her if he got her," Charlie snorted. "You see how long it took him to-"

Sylar held his hand casually under the table as he choked Charlie.

"Sylar!" Samuel whispered furiously. "You're going to expose us all."

"Hardly," Sylar's voice was mild, bored, but his eyes were blazing at Charlie. "The boy just needs a little reminder of who he's talking to."

"Alright, you've made your point. Let him go," Travis snarled.

Cold eyes shifted to Travis, who swallowed roughly and clamped his mouth shut. Sylar tilted his head at the man, not easing his hold on Charlie. There was something dark, hungry in his eyes, She knew that look; things were going to get ugly.

Cautiously, Claire put a hand on Sylar's thigh; his whole body was trembling. She leaned against his side, mouth just an inch from his ear.

"Please, Sylar. Don't do this. Please?" She squeezed his leg gently. "Is this who you want to be? I thought you were different, changed." His nose flared and his hand eased up just a bit. She had to hurry; the waitress was on her way back and charlie was a delicate shade of purple. "Please? I thought I could trust you to keep me safe."

Charlie gasped at Sylar's sudden release. He turned to look at Claire, faces so close that their noses touched. she stared into his thawed eyes but wasn't able to read them.

"Um...I've got your check," Sylvia sounded awkward. "Oh my goodness! Is he okay?" She had just noticed the still-red Charlie.

"Wrong pipe," Samuel lied smoothly. Alice and Becky took turns thumping him on the back.

"Fine," Charlie rasped, "I'm fine." The girls stopped pounding on him and Alice rubbed small circles instead.

"Thank you." Sylar took the check from her hands without looking away from Claire.

"Sure thing." Her voice held a false cheeriness. "How long y'all gonna be in town?"

Sylar finally looked at her. "We're not."

Claire slid her hand slowly off of his thigh, inadvertently drawing his gaze back to her. She pushed her body off of his, maintaining eye contact.

"Well, I-uh...have a nice day." Sylvia frowned, but walked away discouraged.

"That was interesting," Samuel noted, finishing off his breakfast.

"How so?" Sylar asked.

"I was told the two of you were volatile. Yet, here she sits caressing your leg, calming you down."

"He would have killed them. Is that what you want?" Claire huffed.

"No. I want to know the truth about you. I want to see you think about what happened yesterday. I want you to realize it was rape. I want to see the anger and defiance that I've been promised."

"It was rape. I know that. Doesn't matter what it felt like. but she's the one that did it, not him." She glared Alice's smirk.

"Not what it looked like to me," Charlie croaked.

"You're sick."

"What of Sylar? Is he also sick? Why lash out at us, but play nice with him? You're supposed to _hate_ him," Samuel accused.

"I'm the known enemy," Sylar spoke softly before Claire could respond. "There's a certain amount of comfort in knowing what to expect of someone. Claire knows the kind of man that I am, what I'm capable of, she understands the depth of darkness inside of me. She knows what I do; she doesn't like it but at least she can expect it, anticipate it, _prepare_ for it. She hates me. And I've earned that. But, at least to her, I'm somewhat predictable, though usually only in hindsight."

Samuel was quiet a moment before retrieving the check from the table. "Insightful." He gestured them out of the booth and held out a small piece of paper that had been attached to the bill. "I believe that's yours."

Sylar took it, then tossed it at Eli. "Don't mock me, Samuel." He walked out the doors and to the van, Claire on his heels.

"What was it?"

"Phone number."

"Oh." She was confused, but wouldn't ask him while the others came out to join them in the van.

Climbing in, she tried to sit beside Sylar, but he caught her hip and pulled her to him. She dropped heavily onto his lap, both of his hands holding her waist, keeping her in place.

"How much longer?"

"Few hours." His forehead touched her shoulder lightly and his grip tightened on her hips. "Thank you," it was the barest of whispers against her back, "for stopping me."

Claire didn't know what to say, so she patted the side of his leg awkwardly.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who's hanging in there with me on this one. Sorry it's been so slow going. I know where it's heading now, so hopefully that will speed things up.**

**Don't forget to review!**


	8. Domestic Sylar?

She wasn't sure how much longer they drove, though there was still some daylight left, so it couldn't have been as long as it felt. Sylar's head was still resting on her shoulder. And judging by the slackness in his arms, he was asleep.

When the van slowed, she looked out the windshield; they had reached the carnival. Sylar's head came up and his body tensed, causing a similar reaction in her.

"Alright Claire, what you need to know is that you will not speak to anyone, members of the carnival or not, without my prior approval. They don't know why you're here, and it's going to stay that way. You'll stay in Sylar's trailer and do whatever he asks for, for the duration of your stay. Alice will swing by every now and again to keep things interesting. I will contact your father and what happens next will depend largely on him. Understand?" But he didn't wait for her response, he hopped out of the van to greet several curious carnies.

"Out," Travis ordered, opening the door.

Sylar guided her out on slightly shaky legs. But that wasn't much help, considering it was the 'do what Sylar says' clause that had her worried. That and visits from Alice. A few people smiled and greeted her as Sylar steered her towards his trailer.

She had expected to be led to the dark one with black curtains. But instead, his looked normal, a soft tan color wit light blue curtains. A flick of his wrist and the lock released, opening the door.

"Inside," he muttered when she froze on the bottom step.

"What do you do if there's a tornado?" she asked, trying to ease her nerves.

"Move the carnival."

"The whole thing?"

"Yes." He shut the door behind them. "Hungry?"

Until she was locked in, alone with him, she had been. "No."

"Sit." He moved into the tiny kitchen area.

"Is that an order or request?"

He was quiet for a moment. "Whichever will convince you to have a seat."

She sighed, choosing the lone chair as opposed to the bed/couch. She listened to him putter around his spotless kitchen as he made sandwiches. "Yes."

"I figured." He padded in on bare feet, holding two plates. "Tea or water?"

"Tea," she practically whispered. Domesticated Sylar was a little hard to swallow. Was it an act? She couldn't tell; but he did seem well practiced at it. He returned with two glasses of tea, the perfect shade of brown with just enough sugar.

They ate in silence, Claire glancing at him every so often. He kept his face down so she couldn't see much of his expression.

"What are they going to do?"

"No one's shared any secret plans with me." She looked unimpressed and he laughed. "Samuel was telling the truth; his next actions will be decided after he sees Noah's reaction."

"Yeah, well, we both know my dad isn't going to stop whatever it is he's doing. So tell me what to expect."

"He may, when he hears what I've done to you."

Her mouth went dry. "What are you going to do to me?"

"It's already been done, Claire. And they expect me to do a lot more of it while I've got the chance."

"...Will you?"

"Not if I can keep her ability under control. But you will have to pretend. If they know nothing's happening, they'll find someone else to do the torture."

"Is that all they'll do? Or will there be more?"

"Depends. If you appear broken enough, it may be all. If we get you out before they lose patience with Noah.

"We?"

"Me."

Silence stretched as they stared at each other, then Sylar took her plate and left the room. Claire let out a shaky breath and looked around the small home. He returned to rifle through his dresser, pulling out several pieces of clothing.

"It's a nice place," Claire commented, trying to ease the tension.

"Thanks." He tossed a couple things at her. "Go ahead and take the first shower. Bathroom's the only place to get some privacy."

"Okay." She paused in the doorway. "Thank you, Sylar. I don't know why you're doing all of this, but I'm glad you are." She shut the door before he could respond.

Sylar waited patiently while she was in the shower. All he wanted to do was get clean and go to sleep. He couldn't deny that he was looking forward to squeezing onto the small bed beside Claire. After she fell asleep, he may even get to wrap his arm around her.

The thought of her warm body pressing into him, reminded him of that same tight body underneath him, writhing and moaning. He tried to distract himself, but even that was forgotten when she exited the bathroom wearing only his t-shirt and boxers. She had a hand wadded into the fabric, holding the loose bottoms in place.

Sylar closed his mouth and grabbed a safety pin from the dresser. He passed it to her and went directly into the bathroom. If he couldn't ignore her, he would just have to release some of that tension alone in the shower.

Claire pinned the boxers in place and let the big shirt fall to mid thigh, covering the shorts entirely. She stared longingly at the bed. At the most, it was a twin mattress. Maybe she could sleep just for a few minutes while he showered. She crawled slowly onto the bed and slid between the cool sheets; it felt so good to stretch out and relax her tired muscles. Before she realized it, sleep had claimed her.

Claire blinked in the sudden darkness. She wasn't sure what had woken her, but got a hint as the arm circling her body squeezed her tighter. The body behind her pressed in closer, leaving no doubt that it was male. She fought to control her panic, memories coming to her slowly, memories of Sylar.

Cautiously, she turned enough to see his face nuzzled in her messy hair. She took a deep breath and started to peal his arm away from her. Instead of freedom, all she achieved was a soft moan and his body pressed closer than ever.

She had o bite her lip to stifle the pleasurable noise that bubbled up her throat when Sylar's hips pushed into hers. What was wrong with her? He rubbed against her bottom again and she gasped aloud. That woke him with a groan.

"Alice," he growled.

"God." Claire fought for an even breath. The pheromone levels must have been through the roof. "I-I can't..." She shook her head desperately.

"Shh...I'll take care of you," he whispered, smoothing hands over her body.

She tried to roll over to face him, but he blocked the move with his body. Sylar slipped one hand up the front of her shirt, his other hand gripped her hips and he rubbed very deliberately against her. The soft material of their boxers didn't prevent much sensation.

Claire panted, eyes closed.

Sylar squeezed her hip, but released it abruptly, plunging his hand inside the boxers. Claire parted her legs as much as possible in the position he had trapped her in.

He pushed against her, causing an all new sensation of pleasure. Claire gripped a fistful of sheet as her body convulsed. A moan ripped from her throat and he pounded his hips into her.

As her body came down from its high, the pheromones receded, but Sylar was still grinding against her bottom. She wanted to tell him to stop, but his breathing had become rough, his thrusts erratic. And then it was too late.

She held absolutely still, afraid of his reaction, relieved he hadn't taken total advantage of her. She wasn't even aware of the tears on her cheeks as he removed his hands from her body. She listened to him grab a clean pair of shorts and head to the bathroom.

**A/N: Thanks for reading, don't forget to review!**


	9. An Unwelcome Visit

Sylar cleaned up in the bathroom, taking his time. In the other room, the young woman was crying almost silently. He looked at himself in the mirror; he was disgusted. How had he let himself be so vulnerable to that whore's attack? He was going to have to keep up better shields than that or he would never make any progress with Claire.

His reflection frowned; progress with Claire, it was probably never going to happen. Of course, he had already known that when she became his main focus years ago. But now that he was so close, that he had actually been allowed a taste of her, it made it all a lot harder, his faults more obvious.

So long ago, he had been completely confident that he could force her into his life. Now, staring at his face in the lonely bathroom, listening to Claire cry, he doubted it. What did he have to offer? Blood. Pain. Hatred. Nothing. Not even any real experience. Well into his thirties, he had only had two lovers and they had both taken him to their beds with ulterior motives. And now, they were both dead.

No! Three lovers; he had had Claire, too. He grinned as he remembered the feel of her. If only he could forget that she didn't really want him, that she never would. His eyes burned as he stared at himself. The weight of alone forever rode his shoulders. The eyes in the mirror filled with tears; with a snarl, he slammed his fist through them, barely feeling the sting as blood flowed over his hand.

"Sylar?" Claire called softly, uncertainly.

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. He had to control the anger before he could safely face her.

"Sylar?" She was closer now, just on the other side of the door.

"In a minute," he growled. He heaved a sigh and focused on washing the blood off of his hands, small pieces of glass tinkling into the sink. When he felt calm, he opened the door to Claire's wide eyes; at least the tears were gone.

"Is everything alright?"

"Fine." He tried to move passed her, but she saw the shattered mirror. "Leave it, I'll clean it up tomorrow."

"What happened?" She dropped the chunk she was holding.

"Got angry." He slipped passed her and into the main section of the trailer.

"Oh." She followed him out. "I'd ask if you were okay, but..." She shrugged and gestured vaguely at him. He dropped heavily onto the edge of the bed, putting his head in his hands. "How long are we gonna be here?" She sat in the chair.

"As long as it takes."

"To do what?"

He looked at her then, eyes narrowing. "Aren't you angry with me?"

"Honestly?" She paused and he nodded. "No."

"Why?"

"Because you don't want this either."

"Oh yes, yes I do. I want it very much."

"But not like this, with no choices. If that's how you wanted me, you could have taken me that first day; the day you killed Nathan."

"That wasn't the first day."

"That wasn't my point."

"I know." He was quiet for a few minutes. "A month, maybe two."

"That long?" she whined, letting herself fall back in the seat.

He laid back on the bed, scooting up to be more comfortable.

"You won't leave me here, will you?" she asked softly, leaning forward again.

"No." He stared at the ceiling. "I'll take care of you."

"Sun's not even up yet." He grunted, but didn't respond. "Never been so worn out."

"Been a rough couple of days." He closed his eyes, sleep creeping up on him again.

Claire watched his breath slow and even out; she was so tired. She curled up on the chair, but it really wasn't that comfy. Sylar rolled to his side and she eyed him enviously.

Slowly, she moved to the end of the bed. When he didn't stir, she crawled up behind him. There wasn't much room, so she stayed on her side facing him, one arm above her head, the other awkwardly on her own hip.

"You can touch me, if you want. I know the bed's small."

"I thought you were asleep," she accused.

"Light sleeper."

"Guess you'd have to be." Awkwardly, she touched her fist to his shoulder. "I don't know how to do this."

"My hip would be better," he suggested.

Claire held her breath as she moved her closed hand to Sylar's hip.

"Open your hand." She hesitated, but followed his instructions. "Now all you have to do is relax."

She puffed an amused breath and felt his body relax beside her; she hadn't even realized he was tense. She forced her muscles to ease with each breath until she was loose and ready to sleep.

It still felt weird to hold Sylar's hip, basically cuddling him, as she drifted off to sleep.

Sylar waited until her breath deepened and her body went slack, and then he waited a little longer. When he was certain she wouldn't wake, he slid backwards until her body was cupped around his. He sighed with contentment when she snuggled closer and nuzzled his back.

The closeness was great, but what made it fantastic was that she had initiated it. Maybe he could win her after all.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review.**


	10. Hilda

Claire woke up warm and comfortable, curling her body closer to the solid mass in her arms. Memories of the past few days catching up with her, she opened her eyes wide to see Sylar's back underneath her cheek. She gasped, pulling away quickly and promptly fell off the side of the bed with a startled yelp.

"Good morning," Sylar said dryly, rolling over and bracing on his elbow to look down at her.

"Morning," she grumbled, crawling awkwardly to her knees. She stayed there, guarded, waiting for something bad to happen, her bladder fit to burst.

A knock at the door, drew both of their gazes.

"Go to the bathroom, Claire. Get cleaned up." Sylar stood quickly from the bed and slipped on a pair of jeans. "Go." He stared at her, ignoring the second impatient knock.

She stumbled to her feet and into the bathroom. Shutting the door, she leaned her face against it, trying to hear into the next room. Fortunately, the walls weren't insulated worth a damn, so she could hear pretty clearly.

"Yes?" Sylar answered the door, sounding vaguely hostile.

"How're things going with your new little plaything?" a feminine voice asked.

"What do you want, Hilda?" The door shut.

"You know what I want." Her voice was sultry, seductive, and it froze Claire to the door. "So, where is she? Your sweet little Claire?"

"Busy."

"Well, I could think of a couple ways to keep us occupied until she returns."

"How thoughtful. But I can think of a few things too, though none so pleasant. At least not for you."

"Mmm...you tease."

"For now."

"I only want to meet her. It's not just any woman that could distract a man from me." Even her chuckle was seductive.

Claire wondered if Alice was jealous of that voice; it matched her ability so well. But then, she supposed she didn't need it. Curiosity was eating at her, she itched to see Hilda's face; did it match her voice? Could she possibly be that beautiful? That sexy? She had to fist her hands so she wouldn't open the door.

Every part of Claire wanted to be near Hilda, as if she were calling to her. Which is exactly what made her grit her teeth with doubled effort.

"So stubborn. Both of you. Her, I want to meet. You...you, I want to taste."

"How does disappointment taste?"

"Slightly bitter. I think you'll have the sweet tang of evil. Maybe I'll have to sample Clairie too. Would that motivate you?"

"Not in a way you'd like."

"Oh, but I think I would."

Claire jumped away from the door when an impact nearby shook it. She could hear a choking sound and debated whether to interfere or let Sylar choose for himself what to do. As she waited, the gasping turned to gurgling and she cracked the door.

Sylar held a hand out to a gorgeous brunette, pinning her to the wall and choking the life out of her. His eyes darted to Claire and he hesitated, allowing Hilda to take in a coughing breath.

"Sweety, I want you inside me, but that's not exactly what I had in mind."

Forgoing his powers, Sylar moved quickly to wrap his big hand around her neck. To his displeasure, she writhed her body against his, moaning loudly.

Claire could see him fighting himself not to crush her throat. His eyes were hovering on the edge of murder. "Sylar?" His hand flexed, drawing another moan from Hilda, although it wasn't from pleasure that time. "Sylar please?"

She stood behind him, getting a good view of Hilda's lovely purple face. Slowly, she placed her hands on his waist and rested her forehead on his back. His body was so tense it was trembling, his breath coming fast as if he'd been running.

"If you so much as touch her, _this,_" he squeezed her throat harder to the wall, "will seem like playtime." He released her roughly, shoving her towards the door.

She stumbled to her knees, coughs wracking her body. When she looked up at them, she was afraid; no more teasing, no more lust, just naked fear.

"Tell the others, I don't bother with idle threats. They're not near as much fun."

She climbed to her feet, swaying slightly. Standing, her courage returned along with her haughtiness. Her gaze shifted to Claire, who had stepped away form Sylar. "Is he that rough in bed?"

Claire's eyes widened, but before she could decide on a reaction, Hilda's body hurtled through the suddenly open entrance. The door slammed shut before the woman landed and Sylar turned angry eyes on her.

Claire simply blinked back, unsure of how to respond. Whatever he seemed to expect from her, it apparently didn't happen and his anger quickly burned out. With a puff, he walked passed her and into the bathroom. She listened to the water running for a few minutes.

She felt so lost; she didn't know what to do with herself. Her stomach rumbled giving her an idea of where to start. In the kitchen, she searched the fridge for something easy. He had cereal, but no milk; butter but no bread. Except for one heel, but she didn't like those for toast.

Feeling awkward and like she might be overstepping her bounds, she warmed a skillet. She cracked a few eggs, remembering how her mother hated other people to fiddle in her kitchen, especially with her stove. Eggs sizzled as they hit the heat of the pan and Claire threw a lid over the top, letting them set.

While the eggs slowly cooked, curiosity had her searching through the rest of his cabinets. She was bent over looking through boxes of cereal, potatoes, and canned goods when she heard a noise just behind her. Claire stood up and spun around in one movement; Sylar was adding cheese and bacon bits to the eggs. He expertly flipped half the thing over, so that it folded into the perfect omelet.

He slid it gently out of the skillet and onto a plate, holding it out to Claire.

"I was just-"

"Snooping," he supplied, wiggling the plate.

"Yeah." She took it and cut the omelet in half, sliding the rest on a plate in front of Sylar. "That was the last of your eggs."

"Thanks," he mumbled, joining her in the front room to eat.

"I can never keep the omelet whole; always ends up as cheesy eggs."

"It's an art," he said sarcastically. They finished their breakfast in silence, barely even glancing at each other.

"So...what's with that Hilda chic anyway?"

Sylar groaned. "She's always plotting," he began.

"Sounds familiar," she butted in and got stared down. "I'm just saying." She held her hands up in surrender, forcing herself not to smile. His eyes narrowed, giving her a creepy chill down her spine.

"I haven't figured out what she wants yet. She's hiding it well."

"I hate all this subterfuge crap; I'm no good at it. To me, it just looks like she wants you."

"Precisely."

"...What does that mean?"

"She's pretending to want me. It's ridiculous and insulting."

"I'm missing something here. What's ridiculous? And what-"

"Don't!" He stood abruptly, snatching her empty plate away and stalking to the kitchen.

Claire stared open-mouthed after him. He went from calm to cold fury in seconds. "Sylar? Whatever I said,"

"Don't play games with me," he growled, inching closer to her.

"I'm not," she soothed, hands up again. "I'm sorry if I said something to make you mad. I honestly didn't mean to." He was still edging slowly closer, hands balled into fists. "Come on, you know me; if I want you to go to hell, I'll tell you. Or try to send you there."

His eyes burned into hers as he tried to gauge her sincerity. After much too long, the fire in them died down to a low smolder and he took in a deep cleansing breath. "You mean that."

"Course I do, proved it dozens of times."

"No," he smirked. "I know you'll tell me how much you hate me, how disgusting I am." He dropped back onto his seat. "You really don't know why it's ridiculous?"

"No, I don't," she confirmed.

"Sometimes, you confuse me." His head drooped, resting in his hands. "It's absurd that she would find me desirable enough for sex." Claire's eyebrows bunched up as she listened. "It's ridiculous that she would be jealous of my...attention for you. It's completely ludicrous that she would go to such dangerous extents for sex with me. And it's beyond insulting that she thinks I'm gullible enough to believe it." He was ranting himself back into a roiling simmer by the end.

Claire stared at him for several minutes, unsure how to proceed. She wanted to calm him, but she was still confused. "Okay, let me get this straight; you're angry because a woman like Hilda couldn't possibly be attracted to you, but she thinks you're pompous enough to believe it anyways?"

"Yes," he sighed at the straightforward way Claire had presented it.

"You don't see yourself very clearly, do you?"

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review.**


	11. Seeing Sylar

"You don't see yourself very clearly, do you? Claire said in amazement. She was surprised by his low opinion of himself, he always seemed so confident. But then, she recalled that day in the classroom. Sylar had offered her any body she wanted because he hadn't thought it possible that she could desire him.

"I see myself perfectly. I know what I am."

"I don't think you do."

"If you think this is funny," he snarled, but she cut him off.

"No, I don't. And I don't understand how you don't know the way women see you."

"I know how _you_ see me."

"But that's different. You did horrible things to me." He turned his face away. "Besides, I'm not sure how I feel about you right now."

He whipped back to look at her, head tilted as if trying to read her thoughts.

"But, that's not the point either. Women are attracted to you." He snorted and looked away again. "The gas station attendant, the waitress, Alice, Hilda; the list goes on, I'm sure, but those are the ones I know about."

"No. Hilda is up to something and Alice would spread her legs for anything human. I don't know what gas station worker you're talking about, but that waitress was after Eli. Samuel was-"

"No, she was after you. Well, yeah; she noticed the others, but she _wanted _you."

He was quiet for a few moments then shrugged. "If she was attracted to anything it was the danger she could sense."

"Why can't it just be that you're a handsome guy?"

"Because I'm not."

"Who told you that? Because whoever she was, she's off her rocker."

"Then why am I always alone?" He was looking at her strangely, head cocked to the side.

"You tend to kill people, that's enough to make most girls run. Plus, you assume hidden motives are involved whenever someone hits on you. That or you don't even notice it."

"Is that true?"

"Why would I lie? To spare your feelings? I don't think so."

He grunted, but said nothing further on the topic. Sylar tidied the bed and Claire stood awkwardly, wondering if she should help. Done, he reclined back on it and stared absently at the ceiling. She hovered for a few more seconds, then plopped into the chair. His eyes followed her, not quite staying on her face.

A glance down and she knew why. In the dark, the clothes he loaned her were fine, but with sunlight filtering in, the shirt was too thin. It wasn't exactly see-through, but it also didn't leave too much to the imagination. Her cheeks turned rosy as she crossed her arms over her breasts in a late attempt at modesty.

"Search the dresser, use whatever you want."

"Don't suppose you have anything female in there?"

"Nope."

He never moved as she dug through his clothes, looking for something that might fit. He needed to think about his goals, the reasons he was with the carnival.

His biggest problem, as usual, pertained to Noah Bennett; he needed to be stopped. The question was, how to do it? Or rather, how to stop him without destroying Claire? Sylar groaned and covered his eyes; he wished he could just leave it alone. But that wasn't feasible.

"I look ridiculous," Claire complained exiting the bathroom. The pants were huge on her, even rolled up half a dozen times at the bottom. His shirt hung loosely and down to her thighs. She looked like a child playing dress-up in her father's clothes.

"Put on your shoes." He stood and pulled on his own.

"Where we going?" She asked, one hand holding up her pants, while she slipped on her flipflops.

"Shopping. I need eggs, ;you need clothes."

She frowned and looked down at herself. "Didn't think it was _that _bad."

"You look like a little kid."

"Yeah," she grumbled, then narrowed her eyes at him. "That bothers you?"

"Course it does. It's ruining my image of you." He snorted. "All harmless and innocent; I'll forget to watch my back and then you'll kill me."

Claire sighed as she watched him grab some money. "I don't want to kill anyone."

"And yet you've come closer to succeeding than anyone." He gripped her elbow and left the trailer.

"You hold back when we fight." She let him wrap his arms around her, tucking her close to his body.

"I didn't know you realized that." Her hands gripped his biceps tightly as he sprang into the air.

"Only just." She moved her dangling feet to rest atop his.

"We have to do something about Noah before he gets himself killed. Or succeeds."

She stared at him, eyes wide, surrounded by clouds. "What's he doing?"

"Playing god."

They landed in a little wooded area and walked towards the bright lights of Wal-Mart.

"What happens if he does it? Completes whatever you don't want to tell me about?"

"You don't want to know and you probably wouldn't believe me anyhow."

"It's that bad?"

He eyed her from the side but didn't answer. "Let's make this quick. I expect Samuel will be wanting to pay you a visit today. And he'll want you to be properly demoralized."

"So nothing too expensive, is that what you're saying?"

He grinned, "I only have seventy-five dollars on me, so yeah, think conservative."

**A/N: Yes, yes, shorter than you like, I know. But, what else?**

**Thanks for reading! Please review.**


	12. A Trade

Claire sat on Sylar's bed and put on her most innocent, heart-broken face. Samuel walked through the door, followed by Sylar. She had to put on a good show.

"Hello Miss Bennett," Samuel greeted, sitting opposite her in the only chair.

She turned her face away and stared at the wall.

"How're things going?" She gave him only silence as answer. "Now, don't be like that. One night in Sylar's tender care and already you're sense of humor is waning."

"Like you care," she spoke through gritted teeth, surprising herself with the depths of true anger.

"Oh, on the contrary, I care a great deal. And it pleases me; I know Sylar's doing a good job."

"You're sick," she snarled.

He shrugged. "Maybe, but I'm also very persistent. I want you broken; so broken, in fact, that your father won't know what to do with you. I want him desperate and bleeding." He was beginning to shake in anger.

"Why? What did he do to you?"

"He's going to ruin us! All of us! Even you."

"How?"

"You really don't know, do you?"

"No."

"Well, as you're the one being sacrificed for the many, perhaps you should." He paused, waiting to see if Sylar would interfere. "Babies."

"I'm sorry?"

"Babies. Noah Bennett is capturing our women and inseminating them. Like cattle. His new company is trying to create the perfect soldier. From my understanding it's somewhere between Sylar and Peter Petrelli."

"Peter's old abilities with a touch of my ruthlessness."

"Your homicidal tendencies? My father wants to give that to someone else?" She didn't believe them; above all else, Noah hated Sylar.

"Someone new. Someone to raise and train. A son that will do what the father wishes," Sylar confirmed.

"He wouldn't do that."

"Wouldn't he?"

She wanted to say no, but deep inside her, she knew he would. If he thought to control the child, he would. She broke eye contact with Sylar and rubbed her temples, old habit.

"So, she believes," Samuel said, sounding satisfied.

"Doesn't matter," Claire blew him off.

"If you would only _help _us-"

"No."

"You'd never have to spend another night with Sylar. Hilda told me how violent he's become. I don't want to hurt you, Claire. It was never about you."

"I won't help you kill my dad."

"He wouldn't have to die," he pleaded.

"Liar."

"Fine. Let's see how another night with Sylar makes you feel," he growled and stood dramatically. At the door, he stopped, speaking over his shoulder. "It doesn't have to be this way. I would take care of you. Show you the true love of a family."

She glared silently at his back as he shut the door behind him. She opened her mouth but Sylar silenced her with his hand, looking pointedly at the wall. Was Samuel listening? She clenched her fists as she sought to control her anger.

Finally, Sylar lowered his hand and waited for the explosion.

"What do you want me to do?"

* * *

Sylar was surprised at her offer, but didn't hesitate to bring her into his plans. He never wanted to involve her, but since she was there, he would use every advantage he could get. Besides, she should help him, it _was _her father he was trying to keep alive. Not that he expected her to truly trust him.

They didn't do much throughout the day; Sylar plotted different scenarios that were likely to go wrong in his attempt to save _and stop_ Noah. Claire sat and stared blankly at the walls; she may have been making plans, but to Sylar she just looked bored.

"Do you have any paper? And a pencil?" she asked suddenly, disrupting his fifth scenario.

"What for?"

"I have an essay due in a couple of weeks."

"On what?"

"The influence of women in the 1800's."

"How will you research it?"

"...I just want to do the outline."

"Mhmm, what will it consist of?"

"Um...the traditional life of a woman, the...uh...un...traditional life- Dammit! I'm bored alright? Would you just give me some paper?"

"Ask me nicely." He didn't know why it was so much fun to manipulate Claire, but it was.

"Please," she asked through gritted teeth.

Sylar moved so that he was very close to her, making her edgy, he smothered a grin. "Please, what?"

Her hands balled into fists, but she forced a fake smile. "Could I please have a pen and some paper?"

"And if I say yes?" He brushed her hair off of her shoulder.

"I'll say thank you." He really loved her smart mouth.

"What if I want something else? Something more?"

"Like what?" she ground out, narrowing her eyes.

"Those sweet, pouty lips." He traced a finger over them lightly and she shivered, jerking away from him.

"Forget it." She crossed her arms, leaning away from him.

"One kiss is too much? One brief, voluntary touching of the lips isn't worth that paper?"

"You've already kissed me."

"But I want _you_ to kiss _me_."

"I have."

"Your head was cloudy. It wasn't truly your choice."

"This is stupid." She glared at him, but he just patiently watched her. "Why are you doing this/"

"Because it's fun." He waited for a couple of minutes, but she didn't respond. "Why is it so hard to make a decision? I thought you said that I was attractive, or were you lying to me?" He let his face show the sadness he felt.

Claire stopped glaring and studied him. Slowly, she uncrossed her arms and leaned toward him. Her fingers grazed over his brow, down his cheek. Looking nervous, she moved in so that their mouths were an inch apart. Sylar had closed his eyes in anticipation, his hands coming up to rest on her hips. She slid hers onto his shoulders and closed her eyes. Just as she was about to close the distance between them, Sylar whispered. His words breathed across her parted lips.

"I don't have any paper."

Her eyes popped open and she shoved him hard, moving quickly away. "Are you freaking kidding me? Why would you do that? Why mess with me like that? What the hell is wrong with you?" she shouted.

Sylar wanted to laugh it off; it had been a joke afterall. But the realization that she was going to press their lips together was too much. She would have kissed him and he fucked it up. He groaned and lay back on the bed. What _was _wrong with him?

Claire stared at him, where he lay on his back on the bed. He covered his face with his hands and sighed loudly. She sat back down across from him.

"What did you expect me to do?"

He groaned again and dropped his hands to his sides. "Nothing, laugh, tell me to go to hell."

"You didn't think I would kiss you?" She felt her anger begin to soften.

"Of course not; you hate me."

"Why ask for it then?"

"It was supposed to be funny."

"So you don't really want that from me?"

He shifted to see her clearly. "I want everything from you." She looked away, uncomfortable with his sincerity. "But I can only blame myself for deserving none."

She forced her eyes back to him; he was so _sad_. And maybe that's what he deserved, but Claire had done some pretty questionable things herself. Did that mean she wasn't worthy of someone caring? Of a couple moments of happiness?

Sighing softly, she knelt on the bed beside him. He watched her cautiously as she picked up his large hand and held it on her lap. "I don't hate you."

"Why?" His voice sounded choked.

"Because you're not the same man that did those things to me."

"Yes, I am."

"Then why is Hilda alive? Or Eli? Or Peter? Or this whole freak show!"

"It's not-"

"It is the same thing. Couple years ago, you wouldn't have been able to resist the buffet. That makes you different, makes you better."

"But not good enough." He twirled a strand of her hair. "Never good enough."

"Sylar," she sighed. "You wouldn't be you, if you turned into a boyscout."

"Like Peter." He liked when she smiled. "Ironically enough, I was a boyscout once."

Claire snorted, but he continued with complete seriousness.

"It's been years, but I think I could still build a decent campfire."

"Or tie half a dozen different kinds of knots?"

"Hmm...maybe only four."

Claire laughed and shook her head. They were quiet for quite some time after that. "It's getting late. Do you think he'll send Alice over tonight?"

Sylar seemed to deflate. "Almost certainly."

"Then I should do this now." She took a deep, steadying breath and moved in close to a now-frozen Sylar. His eyes were wide, lips still parted in surprise when she kissed him. It wasn't a long kiss, just a soft touching of lips, but her heart still pounded loudly when she pulled away.

His eyes stayed closed while she stroked his rough cheek. "You are good enough," she whispered, giving him another chaste kiss.

**A/N: So...what do you think? Hope you liked it. I liked writing this one.**

**Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review.**


	13. Alice Returns

Sylar focused all of his attention on the soft, plump lips on his. Claire didn't linger or let her hands wander, but it was the best kiss of his life, simply because it was from her and it was totally voluntary. She pulled back again and looked at their hands sitting on her lap, pink cheeked.

He wanted more from her, but he also didn't want her skittish, so he settled for brushing the hair out of her face. "I'll get you out of this mess, I promise."

She half smiled, "That's not why I kissed you."

"Yet, the fact remains." Sylar sighed and relaxed back onto the mattress. He had the sudden urge to yank her down beside him, rip her clothes off and bury himself deep inside of her. Instead, he groaned and wiped a hand over his face. "She's here."

"Who?"

"Alice. Don't you feel it yet?" His body was already pulsing with need.

Claire took a deep, shaky breath. "Yes," she whispered, biting her bottom lip. Her grip on his hand tightened as she whimpered softly.

After assuring himself that his hormones were in check, Sylar pulled the girl down beside him. "Lie back," he said softly, moving up to his elbow for leverage. Once she was reclined back on the bed, he hovered over her, hands gliding over her body, barely making contact and she whimpered again, louder and more desperately.

He slid a knee between her legs. Lips trembling, Sylar kissed her delicately for several minutes until she could no longer stand it.

"Please? Please," she begged, pressing her body up to his as snugly as possible.

Sylar grunted, deepening the gentle kisses he was planting. Their tongues twirled around each other as Sylar settled his full weight on her. Never had he wanted anyone as much as he wanted Claire, needed her.

But, she needed him, too. Needed him to take control and not screw everything up. Groaning inwardly, he rolled off of her.

"No! Where are you going?" She reached desperately for him.

"Relax, Claire. I'm going to take care of you." He slid her pants off, cotton panties going with them.

"Yes," she gasped as he moved between her eager thighs. "No!" she cried as he lay on his belly. He quickly changed her mind again. "Oh god, please," she begged.

Her body twitched uncontrollably, then seized, not allowing her even a breath, as she fisted his hair roughly.

"I'll give you a few minutes," he said, standing from the bed.

Quicker than was casual, he exited to the bathroom and kicked on the water. Cold? No, nice and warm, add a little soap, close his eyes, picture Claire's body, remember all the little (and big) sounds she made, and...sweet release.

Sagging against the wall, he took a moment to listen to the noises from the other room. She was in his dresser, pulling out clothes, but not dressing? Pacing began on the other side of the door; she wanted a shower. There was no sniffling, no crying sounds at all. Sluggishly, he finished showering and climbed out.

Realizing he forgot his clothes, he wrapped a towel low around his waist and opened the door.

Claire paced in front of the bathroom; it had taken a few minutes before she had managed to get her legs steady enough to stand on. In a rush, she pulled her underwear on, but left off the jeans. After mustering some energy, she rose and found a pair of Sylar's boxers and one of his plain, soft, white T-shirts, they were unbelievably comfortable to sleep in.

Not knowing what to do with herself, she walked, back and forth. Finally, the door opened and her mouth dropped.

He stood, dripping in front of her, towel slung low on his slim hips. Flat stomach, muscular arms, large feet, and she had to remind herself to pull her tongue in and shut her mouth.

"Excuse me," he whispered, turning sideways to pass her.

"Sorry," she blurted overly loud, eyes still on his body, following the drops of water as they trailed down his abs to the towel, blocking her view. "Is Alice back?" Her throat had gone dry, making her voice a bit hoarse.

Sylar laughed, head falling back for a minute. "No." He pushed her gently inside the bathroom and shut the door, but she could still hear him chuckling as he dressed.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Hoped you liked it. Don't forget to review! Let me know what you're thinking. What are you expecting? What are you dreading? How will I know, if you won't tell me? **


	14. The Threat

Claire could have kicked herself for acting so...lustful. Damn Alice and the feelings she had awakened inside of Claire. She had, of course, been aware of the male body before, but she had never reacted so much to it. It was hard to ignore, now that she knew first-hand the kind of ecstasy it could bring her. And Sylar, she had already known he was fit, but seeing him without clothes, she hadn't been prepared for. Then, she had to go and open her big mouth; she was so embarrassed.

The shower felt so good, raining down on her skin, she almost didn't want to get out. But her sated body craved sleep. For having done practically nothing all day, she was ridiculously tired. Sighing, she dried off and dressed in Sylar's clothes.

She hoped they'd do something soon about her father's situation; she wasn't sure how much longer she could stand being cooped up in the small trailer. Combing her hair out with her fingers, she left the emotional safety of the bathroom.

He sat sprawled in the chair, leg over the arm. His heavy lidded eyes zoomed straight to her breasts.

"Don't you look comfy?" She dropped onto his bed, crossing her arms over her chest to avoid too much bounce. After all, he was trying to be a gentleman and avoid having sex with her.

He grinned lazily at her and lifted his eyes to her face. "That was considerate of you."

"Just trying to return the favor."

"Hmm," he hummed, eyes lowering slowly over her body, "That's not necessary."

"Really? Are you immune to me now, too?"

"Never. I just enjoy the show."

"The show?"

"Any and every little glimpse of your body that you allow me. I store and save it for later, when you've left me."

She was quiet for a while, thinking about what he'd said. "I thought," she began softly, "that you always seemed so certain that I'd end up with you."

"Ah...the assurance of ignorance. I didn't understand."

"And you do now?" She raised a challenging eyebrow.

"Yes," he answered softly, looking away from her. "It doesn't matter whether you feel hatred or love for me."

"You think-"

"It's irrelevant. You'll never allow yourself to be with me. Even when we are quite possibly the last two people on the planet."

"I..." She didn't know what to say to that, so she said nothing.

"It's alright, doesn't really change anything."

"Doesn't it?"

"No. I still feel...what I feel for you. All the things I've done to receive your attention, even knowing it would be your wrath," he shook his head, "No, I'm through with that. I don't want your anger anymore, even if it means you forget all about me."

"As if I could ever forget you."

They were silent for so long, Claire started to fall asleep, slumping over her legs. She awoke several hours later, snuggled against Sylar's body. He was wrapped around her, from the arm around her chest, down to the leg thrown across hers. His chin pressed to the top of her head as he breathed deeply. Comfortable, though a little too warm, she easily drifted off before her conscious mind could pick up Hilda's call.

"Get out of here," Sylar snarled, not far away, waking Claire from a fitful sleep.

"I just want to see her." A male countered, he sounded vaguely familiar, although she couldn't place him.

"Out of the question."

"What are you afraid of? Think she'll jump me? Or just beg me to take her away from you?"

"Do you want to die, Charlie? Is that why you're here? Don't have the balls for suicide? Because, you should know, when I kill, it's never quick and painless."

"You wouldn't dare," the younger man said, sounding half amused.

"Oh, but I would. And I'd enjoy every second."

"Uncle Samuel would end you." He still sounded confident.

"He could try," Sylar challenged.

"You wouldn't stand a chance; Samuel is the most powerful man in the world." His voice had gone a tad shaky.

"Really? We could put this theory of yours to a test," he offered, half hoping the little punk would take him up on it.

"I just want to see Claire."

Sylar sighed loudly, "Why?"

"Because I want her when you're finished."

As her blood turned to ice, Sylar laughed.

"You think that's funny?"

"Of course I do. She's mine; there is no 'finished'."

"You'll get bored."

"no."

"Women get boring after you've had them so many times. Nothing to be ashamed of; we're men, we need variety."

"Leave."

"No."

"Can't say I didn't give you enough chances." He started to raise his hand.

"Sylar?" Claire called, sitting up.

"Ah, she awakens," Sylar said, half turning in the doorway, so he could watch them both. "This piece of filth would like to see you." He shoved his arm roughly through the door, knocking the other man back a step as he tried to get a look through the door.

"Is it necessary?" she grumbled.

"Yes!" Charlie sounded breathless as he struggled against Sylar's arm.

"Nope," Sylar countered, amused.

"Is he going to hurt himself out there?"

"Probably." Claire sighed, while she didn't have anything to say to him, she also didn't need to stir up more trouble. He saw the decision on her face before she could vocalize it. "Put something on first."

Groaning, she dug a dark button up shirt out of Sylar's drawer, pulling it over the white one she had slept in. "Let's make this quick." She crossed her arms and stood behind Sylar, where he blocked the doorway.

Charlie's eyes slid down her body, obviously assuming she wore nothing beneath the black shirt. "Looking good. But, how are you doing?"

"How do you think?" she bit.

"Could you step out here, please?" He gestured to the dirt walkway.

"That's not going to happen." Sylar moved a little farther in front of her.

"Fine," he responded, through gritted teeth. "Claire, Samuel has authorized me to offer you a walk around the carnival. There are few visitors here this early, so you'll be able to get some fresh air at minimal risk."

Before she could turn him down, Sylar blocked her entirely from view. "She's not going anywhere with you."

"She'll go wherever my uncle tells her."

Sylar grinned, "Really? Go on, order her on behalf of Uncle Sammy."

"Move and I will." He stepped aside, but didn't move his arm. "Claire, you are to take a walk with me."

"No thanks," she spat.

"Samuel has decreed-"

"I don't give a damn what that bastard says." She turned back to the room, headed for the toilet.

"Are you sure? I guess I'll just have to tell Alex you're not interested."


	15. The Traitor

Claire froze, hand on the doorknob. "...Alex?"

"Yeah, you remember fish boy. He's been in hiding; thanks to you, I hear. Well, we found and relocated him, just last night. He sure could use a friendly face right about now."

"What did you do to him?" She spun around to face him.

"Nothing...yet."

Claire narrowed her eyes at the man. "What do you want from me?"

"You're body."

"Not going to happen." She'd risked more than her share for the comic collector in the past, she'd be damned if she just handed her body over to Charlie on mere threat alone.

"Not even for your former lover?"

"We were never lovers." She forced herself not to glance at Sylar, watching the exchange silently.

"That's not what I heard," he taunted, noticing Sylar's scrutiny. "I got a whole list of the men, or more accurately, boys, that you've sated your lust on. Want to know who told me about your conquests?"

"I don't care who's been whispering lies in your ears," she growled. But it wasn't true; she did want to know.

"Oh, I think you'd find it interesting."

"Then you're wrong."

"I don't think I am. Come with me, I'll let you see the rat in person."

She swallowed dryly, eyes shifting to Sylar. He appeared neutral, but she was used to that.

"Alone," Charlie added, seeing her look.

"No," she deadpanned. "I won't go anywhere alone with you."

"So negative," he chuckled, "always expecting the worst."

"That does sound like her," Sylar cut her off.

"Last chance to confront your friend, to put a face with the traitor."

Claire ground her teeth, but turned her back on him. "No thanks."

"Don't say we didn't offer. Maybe when we find West Rosen, you'll be a little more interested. You might want to think about who else we'll manage to get in here. Maybe Petrelli. Or that adorable little roommate of yours. We could even let Sylar play with your friends. How would that be?"

She fought her body not to react. The thought of Peter captured was too much; he was supposed to be the one to rescue her if Sylar flaked.

"Just remember that. I'll be back and you should be more friendly when I am."

The door slammed behind her and she let out a gust of air. Turning to see Sylar still beside the door, she braced her back against the wall and slid down to sit on the floor; she raised her shaking hands to cover her face.

Sylar watched, silently trying to gauge how much of what Charlie had said was the truth. He hadn't been lying when he accused Claire of sleeping around. But neither had she been lying when she denied it. Whoever their informant was, was telling lies about Claire's past love life, but using accurate enough people from it. If they knew that much about her, then they could be dangerous.

He walked silently to where she sat, trembling and squatted down in front of her.

"It doesn't matter who they threaten you with, Charlie isn't going to touch you. I won't allow it. We'll leave first."

"What about your plan?" she whispered between her fingers.

"To hell with it," he growled.

Slowly, she lowered her hands and took a deep breath. "Promise me?"

"I do." He wanted to brush the stray lock of hair off of her face, but he didn't dare.

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the wall.

"Stay put. Don't open the door to anyone."

Her eyes snapped open and she grabbed his wrist as he began to stand. "Where are you going?"

"I want to know who's telling stories about you."

"If you go, they'll know I'm alone." Her grip tightened.

"They won't see me." He squeezed her fist with his free hand, then stood. She released him so he could dress. He liked the way her eyes followed him nervously, so he opted to slip pants on over his shorts instead of going to the bathroom to change. When he pulled his shirt on, she stood, moving near him.

Sylar sighed, grabbing socks from the drawer and heading for the bed to put them and his shoes on. Claire followed, hovering just to his left. "I'll be back." He stood facing her, watching the indecision in her eyes, wishing her knew what she was debating on.

Giving up waiting for a response, he stepped to the side to go around her. But, her arms swept around him, her body pressing softly to his. "Please come back," she pleaded quietly.

Closing his eyes, Sylar held her close and leaned down to breath in her sweet scent. "Wouldn't dream of leaving without you." Cautiously, he kissed her jaw just below her ear. He held his breath as she stiffened for a moment. When her body relaxed against his, her arms squeezed tighter, pressing their bodies so close, Sylar had trouble concentrating.

A moment later, she pulled away, eyes wide, hands still trembling. "Will you...if you can, would you..."

"Check on your friend?" he asked flatly, pushing all of the jealousy away from his words.

"...Yes please?" She was afraid to meet his eyes, so instead she stared at the design on his shirt.

Sylar took in a big breath of air, but spoke calmly. "Was he your lover?"

"No!" Her eyes snapped up to his. "I barely knew him. Besides, you were the first; you already know this."

"Yes, I do. I just needed to hear you say it." He ran a hand down her hair. "This'll be over soon," he whispered, leaning closer to the pouty lips he wanted to taste again.

He shut his eyes when Claire closed the distance between them, hesitantly brushing her lips against his. "I'm ready when you are."

"Back soon." He reluctantly left her alone in his trailer, making sure the door was locked behind him.

He hid in the shadows as he followed Charlie's trail through the carnival; the man wore distinctive boots. Once he found the tent he had entered, Sylar spotted one of Samuel's guards, Eli. And where there was one, there were many. Carefully observing them, he found an opening and slipped inside.

A boy, he assumed it was Alex, was tied to a chair and looked afraid. But, as far as he could see, he didn't appear to be harmed. Alice was sitting on his lap, teasing him with ever-rising pheromone levels and wiggling her bottom.

"Just say you're going to help us," Alice purred, "and I'll take good care of this." She stroked a hand over the bulge in his jeans.

"No." He shook his head defiantly. "Please? Please let me go?"

"Why should I help you, when you won't help me?" Samuel asked from a nearby corner.

"I _can't_ help you!"

"Why?"

"Because, she saved me. I can't betray that. Please!"

Samuel sighed. "I will give you one more day to think about the consequences of refusing me. If I don't like your answer tomorrow morning..." He tilted his head towards one of the Eli's playing with a knife.

Sylar waited patiently until he had an opening to slip back out unnoticed. He would have to wrap up his plans tonight, because tomorrow morning, he and Claire would have to leave. Hopefully, he'd be able to get fish boy out alive. But if not...well, he'd make sure Claire knew he tried.

_Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review. *corrected Jesse to Alex, lol, sorry and thanks for catching that for me guys!*_


	16. Need

When Sylar reached his trailer, Claire was still alone with the door locked. By the sound of things, she was in the bathroom pacing. She froze when he flicked the locks open.

"Claire, it's me," he called softly after shutting the door behind him.

She released a great whoosh of air and cracked the door, peeking through. He waited patiently while she calmed herself down. "Did you see him? Was he hurt?"

"He's tied up, but he looks alright. We're out of here tomorrow morning. Get a bag packed."

She stared, hesitating. "Why do I need a bag? Aren't you taking me home?"

"That's the plan, but we need to be prepared, just in case." He reached under the bed and pulled out two duffel bags, tossing one to Claire. "Leave room for me in there." And he left for the kitchen with the second bag, filling it with the best road food he had.

When he returned, she was carefully stuffing the bag; her stuff was all on one side. He jammed the food bag back under the bed and joined her at the dresser.

"How are we saving my dad?" She sat on the bed, watching him.

"We go in, knock him out, and take him when we leave."

"Knock him out? I didn't agree to that."

"Do you think he'll listen to reason? Will we be able to convince him that what he's doing is wrong? Will he abandon his project and come with us? With me?"

"…No," she whispered. "What about the women? What about Alex?"

"We'll contact Parkman and Petrelli as soon as we can, and we'll leave the boy with Suresh."

"Wait. I thought Mohinder was dead? You know where he is? Is he…whose side is he on?"

"Mine."

"Does he still have an ability?" She didn't want to push him by asking why.

"Yes." He stuffed the last shirt he could fit into the bag, along with a fat roll of money. Cramming in a few more things from the bathroom, he zipped it closed and tucked it beside the one containing food. Sitting, he rubbed the headache forming at his temples.

Claire sat awkwardly, unsure what to do with herself, so she simply watched him and waited. The problem was that there wasn't much to see, he didn't move, didn't talk, didn't so much as look in her direction. "Are you hungry? I'm hungry." She went to the kitchen without waiting for an answer. There wasn't a lot of food left, so she settled for making a couple turkey sandwiches with lettuce instead of bread.

When she returned, he hadn't moved. She balanced the plate on the arm of his chair and began nibbling at hers.

"Thank you, Claire."

They ate in silence; while Sylar solidified their plans in his mind, Claire worried what the next day would bring.

"How will we get him out?"

"Excuse me?"

"Alex; how are we saving him?"

"I have an idea, it might work, but we may have to fight our way out."

Grunting in frustration, she flopped backwards on the bed. "Why not tonight? What are we waiting for?"

"An advantage."

"We have you! What more 'advantage' do we need?"

"That's flattering, Claire. But, we are seriously outnumbered here. If it were just the two of us, no problem. But to get in and out with no injuries…" He shrugged. "Better stick to the cautious side."

"This is going to be a long night."

"Yes, it is." He sent their plates back to the kitchen telepathically and went back to concentrating on plans and back ups and what ifs.

Claire, bored beyond belief after only a few more minutes, fell into a light doze. When she awoke, it was dark outside and Sylar was in the kitchen, cooking something that smelled amazing. Claire's attention, however, was on a different matter all together; her dream had been hyper erotic and starring none other that the man fixing their dinner.

Biting her lip, she forced back the whimper at her lips. Her lower body clinched as she imagined him as he had been in her dream, barefoot, shirtless, and stalking towards her.

She strained her ears, trying to hear how distracted he was. Swallowing hard, she slowly slipped her hand into her pants.

Confused, Sylar left the skillet off the fire to investigate the noises from the main room. He moved slowly, back to the wall, uncertain of what he'd find. The scene that met his eyes, made his heart pound and his body freeze. Claire was reclined back on his bed, eyes closed, mouth parted, hand moving inside of her jeans. He ground his teeth when she moaned, all of his blood rushing south.

She whimpered, biting her lip; it wasn't enough, she needed more. In the back of her mind, she recognized the symptoms of Alice's attack, but couldn't focus passed her desire. When she opened her eyes, she saw him, not entirely how she had fantasized about him, but pretty close. He was barefoot, but unfortunately he wore a shirt. He did, however, stare at her hungrily, eyes dark and heavy.

"Sylar," she whispered. He groaned and closed his eyes, nostrils flaring. "Please, come here?"

"Pheromones," he ground out, through locked jaw, although he knew that that was not the cause of his…problem.

"I know. I'm just not as good at this as you are." She smiled enticingly at him.

Without meaning to, he stepped towards her, eyes following the movements of her hand. "Looks like you're doing fine without me."

"Looks can be deceiving," she growled impatiently, ripping her hand out of her pants in frustration. "I need your help. Please?" she pleaded, "Please?"

"Take 'em off," he ordered, moving to her side in two long strides. Her cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink as she slipped her pants down. "Those too." He gestured to her soft blue cotton panties. She hesitated, but the pure desire urged her on, and she dropped them atop her jeans.

He prowled forward, crawling over her onto the bed, forcing her to lie back. Their breath quickened as he hovered above her, but with great effort, he moved backwards without touching her. He began to kiss his way down her body.

A while later, Claire sank bonelessly into the mattress a moment before Sylar moved away to sit on his chair. Elbows on his knees, face in his hands, he seemed to be struggling. Sated only for a minute, she eyed his jeans, stretching uncomfortably. For a flash, she was able to see passed her own lust, to the man across from her and his denied need.

She slipped from the bed and crawled to him, stopping level with his knees. Sylar blinked, momentarily confused, as he watched her proceed. Biting her lip, she laid her palms on his thighs and ran them slowly up.

"What are you doing?" He sat back, watching her get closer.

"Taking turns." Her hands flipped open the button on his black jeans.

"I…you don't have to…you shouldn't…" His eyes followed her hands as she lowered the zipper, but his voice trailed off.

He was vaguely aware of raising his hips so she could pull his pants off. His breath was rough as she moved in to tug his shirt over his head, her soft tee brushing against him. He knew he should stop her, but couldn't bring himself to say the words. That was, until she turned large innocent eyes on him. "Claire, don't. We can't- Oh shit!" His head dropped back.

Sylar nearly hyperventilated as she experimented on him. He would have liked to last longer, but having his fantasies come true after years of dreaming, meant they would be short lived.

He was still half-delirious when she climbed onto his lap.

"Please, Claire, please," Sylar begged, eyes shut, forehead against her.

She nodded and kissed him. His tongue brushed her again and again as his hands fumbled to get her shirt off, the smoothness of her skin distracting him.

Claire protested when he broke away from her, lifting the tee over her head and tossing it away. She tried to recapture his lips, but he had moved lower, to cup her small breasts and place soft kisses all around them.

As she fought for breath, she noticed a certain lightness to the air; the administered pheromones had finally leaked out of the room. Mind clearing, she looked at Sylar; his eyes were clouded with lust, his own, not manufactured. And despite being unfulfilled, he was concentrating on regaining control. He closed his eyes, leaning back from her and released her chest. His brow furrowed and he took a deep, steadying breath.

Not a thought in her head, Claire leaned in and kissed him. He grunted, hands returning back to her body in a flash, gliding over her skin, one coming up to tangle in her hair. She rolled her hips, breath escaping her as her body once again responded.

But Sylar pulled back, staring into her eyes. "Tell me you still want me."

"…Tell me you love me," she whispered, hands sliding up his chest.

**A/N: So…what do you think is going to happen next? Will Sylar laugh at her and her ideas of love? Will he fling her off of his lap in frustration? Maybe he'll announce his undying love for her and present her with a bouquet of flowers? Ok, flowers may a bit overboard, you're right. Will they be interrupted before he can tell her? I know, but I'd still like to hear what you think will happen.**

**Thanks for reading! Don't forget to review, you know they motivate me to write more.**


	17. Real

Hands framing her face, he held her gaze. "I…Claire, I- I can't." He turned his face away.

She took a deep breath, watching him, his pained expression, the way he pulled back, and thought about his words. He didn't reject her, so much as avoid being rejected. Mustering up some courage, Claire ran fingers through his hair and stroked his stubbly cheek. "I still want you," she said softly, kissing his jaw.

She didn't miss his shaky breath or the way he leaned into her kiss. "No Alice, no plots…just us."

His eyes were watery when he turned back to her, pressing their lips together so gently.

Hands shaking, she braced them on his strong shoulders, head falling back as she was overwhelmed by pleasure. Claire started to move again, but he held her hips immobile.

"Wait, just…just wait," he gasped. "Don't rush this." He pulled her body to his, holding her close, and buried his face in her long hair.

Claire took a deep breath, forcing her body to calm down a bit. She wrapped herself around him, arms and legs, squeezing them in between his body and the chair. After a minute, her lower body began to lose patience and she started to shift about.

He chuckled, lifting his head at last, but wiping his face before looking at her.

"Sorry," she said with a shrug. There were damp traces on his cheek; had he been crying? She ran her thumb across it; kissing him when he tried to pull away. "Stay with me here, okay?"

Closing his eyes tight, he nodded. "I do, Claire," he whispered, "love you." Opening his eyes to confront her was incredibly hard, but the fist squeezing his heart eased when he saw her smiling at him.

"I know." She kissed him again as she rolled her hips, making them both moan.

Once she started moving, she couldn't stop, it felt too good. Especially since Sylar was no longer holding her motionless, but urging her along, driving them both mad with desire.

They moved so fast together, that her cries became one long call. Finally, her body clinched so tight, that she couldn't draw breath or make a sound. He moaned loudly as his body shook. Spent, they both collapsed against the chair, Claire still draped loosely around him. Before either found the energy or desire to move, they drifted off to sleep.

Claire woke first, a little confused and disoriented. She blinked and pushed her upper body off of Sylar; he looked so peaceful as he slept. Suddenly, she felt a strong urge to go outside, someone was there and she needed to see them.

She stood, moving towards the door, but knowing that she shouldn't. Her hand had just gripped the doorknob, when an arm slipped around her waist.

"Don't answer her call, Claire," Sylar whispered, tugging her back and removing her hand from the knob. "We need to get dressed; it's time to go."

"Time…but you said in the morning, it's still dark out."

"If they're coming for you, we're leaving."

"And Alex?"

He sighed, "Yes, him too."

The urge to go outside returned, stronger than before and Claire had to grit her teeth to fight it.

"Clothes now!" he ordered, spinning her by the arm over to the dresser. "Hilda's trying to be subtle and not call me, too. It won't be long before she gives up and uses her full ability." He was pulling his shoes on before Claire had managed her jeans. "Move!" He shoved a shirt into her fumbling hands and drug out their bags.

"I'm trying," she hissed, pulling her shirt on and working next on her sneakers. The pull was making her hands shake with effort. "Why is she calling me?"

"Maybe because she's half obsessed with you. Maybe because someone told her to." He paused, tilting his head to the side. "Yes, Charlie. He's using her desire to talk to you, to separate us."

"But, why would she be obsessed with me? She doesn't know anything about me."

"That's just it." He pulled her towards the bathroom window. "She doesn't understand the draw you hold for me. She thinks I can only resist her, because I want you so badly." Opening the window, he stuck his head out. "Go." He shoved her out of the window, following quickly behind with the bags. "Keep going," he whispered, hand on her back, directing her towards a few trailers.

She followed him, ducking and running for nearly ten minutes before they came to a stop. He tucked their bags close to the corner of a large tent.

"Wait here," he whispered in her ear.

"No way! I'm coming with you."

He grimaced, it wouldn't be easy to get them all in and out, and with Claire in tow, it would be next to impossible to dump Alex if the need arose. "Complete silence. Do not rush over to him, no matter what. Understand?"

"Yes. Let's go." But, he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Gotta take out the guards first."

"Oh. Right."

"Eli," he breathed, spotting one of the clones. Silently, he crept upon it, snapping its neck, making Claire cringe. As the body fell, it disappeared. He prowled onward, fully aware of the young woman sneaking along nervously behind him.

He held his hand up for her to stop; he had found another Eli. And…unless he was mistaken, it was the real man. He held out a hand, silently choking the man, until he passed out. His solid body hit the floor seconds before an alerted clone, running to the rescue, vanished. He grinned. "Got him."

He led the way inside the tent, sticking to the shadows and making sure Claire did the same. In the center, still tied to a chair, was Alex. He felt Claire's gasp, but was relieved to note that it was silent. He put his mouth to the shell of her ear.

"Don't move. Don't talk."

She nodded uncertainly, hunkering down in the dark. Meanwhile, Sylar morphed into Samuel and strutted into the clearing.

"Samuel," Alice blurted, standing suddenly. "I thought you were gone for the night. Lydia…?"

"Bored me." He ignored her and moved in front of Alex. "Are you prepared to do as I've asked?"

"We were never lovers! I can't pick up where we left off, if all I've ever done was kiss her," he pleaded, lip bloody.

"I have it on good authority that-"

"Well, she's wrong! I don't care who she says she is to Claire; she's wrong."

Sylar narrowed Samuel's eyes. "Alice, bring her."

The girl scampered off, returning a minute later with a scrawny brunette, looking smug.

"Gretchen, love, come here, please?"

The skinny girl scurried forward. "He's lying. Claire slept with him. She has sex with all the men; even her own uncle."

Sylar was frustrated that the girl wasn't lying, or rather she didn't think that she was. But, he had to play his part.

"Did she tell you she had sex with our young friend?"

"No, of course not. But I could tell, I can always tell."

Sylar rubbed his forehead, feigning disappointment. "It's time to end this."

"No! Please!" Alex sobbed, struggling against his bindings.

"I have no further use for you. Alice," he barked.

"Yes?" She moved timidly forward.

"Find Eli. We finish this now."

"Right away." She ran for the exit.

As soon as she was out of sight, Sylar pulled a knife and Alex increased his pleas. "Shut up. We don't have long." He cut the bonds, yanking him to his feet. "Let's go." He shoved the kid towards Claire's hiding spot. "Claire, get behind us."

She darted forward to obey. "Where do we go?"

"Away. As fast as possible. I can't carry both of you, so we'll have to run." He led the way out, surprised not to meet resistance. Grabbing the bags, he gave them to his younger counterparts.

Again they set off, but it wasn't long before they ran into Charlie and Hilda looking furious.

"Uncle Samuel? What's going on?"

"Escape," Sylar growled, sending Charlie flying backwards into a building. He hit with a sick crunch and fell to the ground.

Eyes wide, hands up, Hilda backed away. "Please, don't? Samuel, whatever's happening, I won't say anything." She licked her lips nervously.

"Get lost," he snarled and led the way past them.

"Samuel! Quick! Eli's been knocked out! Samuel!" Alice's voice trailed behind them.

"Oh shit," Claire gasped.


	18. Getting Out

"Fancy meeting you here, brother," Samuel drawled, stepping from between two tents on the outskirts.

"Whoa! Who-what's going on?" Alex stammered, looking from one Carnival Master to the other.

"Time to run, Claire," Sylar said darkly, gathering electricity into his hands. "Go. I'll catch up."

"What are you doing? You think she really wants you? Loves you?" Samuel laughed cruelly. "She's using you for escape. She'll turn on you as soon as she and her little boyfriend are safe."

"Then so be it." His hands crackled furiously.

"Find us," Claire whispered, touching his upper arm briefly. "Let's go." She took the bags, and tugged on the tall boy. "Alex, now!"

Slowly, he started moving with her. They headed straight for the treeline for concealment before any more carnies showed up to catch them.

"This way," she whispered, zigzagging in a general northeast direction.

Alex was already breathing heavily as he followed at a pace that made her growl in frustration. They'd never get away at that rate.

_*****Meanwhile******_

"Samuel!" Alice stumbled upon them, confused for a moment. But, the blue glow in his hands gave Sylar away. "It's Eli-"

"Forget him," he cut her off. "Go after the boy and the blonde. Don't hurt them, just stall."

"I can do that," she smirked, taking off.

"Are you sure you don't want to keep her close? A little power-up _might_ make this a fair fight."

"Oh, she'll be close enough to do her part." The earth started trembling.

"Ready or not, here I come." Sylar sent a bolt of lightening that was blocked by a sudden earthen mound. A great fissure opened at his feet and he barely had time to leap into the air before falling into it.

Now flying, he sent bolt after bolt at the Englishman, but time and again sudden walls of dirt would spring up like shields to protect him. Getting bored quickly, Sylar circled him and used his telekinesis to lift him into the air.

Out of contact with the earth, he lost fine control of his power and the whole of the carnival shook threateningly. Screams filled the air as the unsuspecting members stumbled out of their trailers. Children looked, terrified, up to where Sylar was holding Samuel. Parents grabbed little ones, lovers latched onto each other as they stared wide-eyed at the hovering men.

"Am I to be a martyr?" The ground started to crack under their feet.

"Let's leave it to fate," Sylar growled, flying higher and off to the south. "This should be far enough. At this height, you'll stand about a thirty percent chance of surviving the fall. But I'd up it to approximately fifty percent because of your ability. Sound fair?"

"Wh- No!" Samuel screamed as Sylar released his hold on the man.

The ground started to rise to meet him, but there wasn't enough time; Samuel crashed with a sickening crunch. His neck bent at an impossible angle.

"Sylar!" Claire screamed from at least a mile in the opposite direction. Without his gifted hearing, it would never have carried far enough. It was precisely that sort of thing that made it hard to properly regret his murderous past.

Not sparing another thought for the deceased carnie, he sped towards Claire's cries. The closer he got, the more desperate they became. Finally, he saw her struggling against Alex, who had her pinned on her stomach to the forest floor.

"Stop it! Stop! Sylar!" She elbowed the man in the face, possibly breaking his nose.

Not deterred, he continued to try and peal her pants off. Knowing Alice was near, he spotter her just to the left, watching with a smile; she hadn't noticed him. He landed directly in front of her, making her gasp in fright.

Sylar shrugged, grabbed her head and twisted violently, snapping her neck; she fell lifeless to the round. He rushed over to the still fighting pair, and snatched a handful of Alex's dark hair, flinging him backwards.

He reached down to the sobbing Claire, who was scrambling to her feet. Unfortunately, she kicked out at his knee without checking his identity first. Sylar yelled in pain as his knee dislocated under the force of her blow. She swung around, fist connecting with his jaw only a second before recognizing him.

"Dammit," he cursed, hobbling back a step to escape further attack.

"Sylar," she whispered, hands out, noticing the way he flinched away from her. "Sylar, I'm sorry. Alex, he...it was Alice," she tried to explain. Slowly, she touched his cheeks, running her hands down them to his neck, then his chest. "We have to find Alice, she'll drive him mad."

"She's not a problem anymore." Sylar gritted his teeth as his knee snapped back into place. "That was a hell of a kick."

Claire chuckled, tears spilling down her cheeks. Not entirely sure how she got there, she cried into his chest; large hands soothed her back and picked leaves from her hair. After several minutes, she shuddered, taking a deep breath as he kissed the top of her head.

She pulled back, wiping her face. "Sorry."

"Don't be." He ran a finger across her chin.

Claire gasped suddenly. "Alex! Where is he? Did you..."

His eyes clouded dangerously. "I should have," he snarled.

She sighed and closed her eyes in relief. "It wasn't his fault."

"Doesn't matter; he touched you."

"Where is he?"

"Secured." He pointed a thumb over his shoulder to the white-faced boy wrapped around a nearby tree.

"Samuel?"

"Same as Alice."

"Do you think we're safe?"

"No; Charlie and Eli are still alive. But for now..."

Claire nodded; they were in as good a situation as they could expect for the time being.

"I'll get you to Peter, then come back for that one."

"Let's go." She wrapped arms around his neck as he pulled her close to his body.

She couldn't follow their direction as they flew above the clouds, so she settled for resting her cheek against his chest. It didn't take as long as she had imagined it would. As they landed, Parkman ran out onto the roof to meet them, gun trained on Sylar; Peter was only a few steps behind him.

"I'll be back for her," he announced, pushing her towards her uncle. "Keep her safe."

"But-"

"Alex," he said and leapt from the tall building, flying up into the clouds.

Claire watched him go with emotions thick in her throat.

_A/N: Yes? I can hear you thinking, but you gotta press that little review button to let me know details. ;)_


	19. Uncle Peter

Sylar hated leaving her there, but he knew Peter would protect her. He had to get back to the kid before somebody else found him first. Not that he would mind, but Claire would and she was all that mattered.

He flew quicker alone; not because her weight effected his speed, but because of the way she had pressed her body against his, holding him tightly. Arriving at the forest, he found Alex hiding in a tree. He floated down, level with him.

"What are you doing?"

The kid screamed and nearly fell out of the tree. "You! You're the one who saved me," he whispered excitedly. "Where's Claire? You gotta get me outta here!"

"That _is_ why I came back. Why are you in a tree?"

"There were a couple of men looking for us, me and Claire. They found the body, that woman's body. And they got _real _angry. So, I hid up here before they could find me."

"Of course." Sylar, already disliking the kid, found an even deeper loathing for his cowardice. "What's your ability?" he asked, grabbing the boy and pulling him from the tree and into the sky.

"I can breath underwater."

"Well, that's lame."

"Hey!"

"It is what it is, Kid." He headed southwest.

"Where are you taking me? Where's Claire?"

"Let's get something straight right now. Claire is in a safe place, far away from you. And I _will not_ be taking you there. She's none of your concern anymore."

"It's not my fault! That woman, Alice, she drove me insane; I couldn't control-"

"You're weak. That makes you a risk. I won't lose her because you can't control yourself, can't _defend_ yourself."

"But-"

"If you don't want to fall, you should stop tempting me." He flew as fast as he could to find Suresh; he wanted to be rid of the boy. He spotted the little house, set back off the road, and landed rougher than usual, releasing the kid. "Mohinder?" he called, knocking on the back door.

"Sylar?" the doctor sounded suspicious, opening the door a crack.

"Yeah. I have a package for you." He thrust Alex inside. "Keep it safe, but don't baby it."

"Sylar, I can't-"

"You owe me, Suresh." He narrowed his eyes, lowering his brows. "Besides, it's not really for me, it's for Claire."

"Is that so?"

"I'll come back, when it's safe."

"Do I even have a choice here?"

"Not really." He leapt into the air, flying for Claire as fast as he could. How he'd talk Petrelli and Parkman into handing her over without a fight, he didn't know. But, he would get her back one way or another.

By the time he got to Peter's hideout, it was almost midnight. He knew busting in, in the middle of the night, would hardly bring about a peaceful resolution. Satisfying his need to see her safe, he hovered near a window. He had to search several rooms before finding her, tossing restlessly in the small bed, Petrelli watching over her.

Grudgingly, he left her there and flew to an empty neighboring building. Annoyed Claire had both of their bags, he sat, propped in a corner facing both the window and the door. He stared blankly for a while, unable to get comfortable. Finally, an hour later, he drifted off to sleep, arms feeling extremely empty.

He dreamed over and over of sinking into Claire's willing body.

* * *

Claire rolled over, yet again, feeling cold and lonely on the little cot. Peter, thinking she was afraid of Sylar's return, sat protectively by the door. In truth, she was worried that something bad had happened to him. She was sure he would return for her within a few hours, but then night fell and the others insisted she needed some rest.

She had attempted explaining things to them, but no one would listen.

"_It's alright, Claire. You don't have to explain; I was there. I know what he did to you."_

"_No, Peter; you're not listening. He didn't know-"_

"_Don't worry, we'll take care of him if he comes back. You're safe now."_

"_I know I am. That's why he brought me here."_

"_He plays sick games, but he can't get to you in here."_

_Claire growled in frustration. She loved Peter, but sometimes he could be so damn thick-headed._

Sleep finally crept up on her, hours later. Though, her dreams were far from restful; blurred images of Sylar naked turned into Alex trying to rape her, and then Sylar fighting countless opponents with no faces.

Sometime around dawn, she struggled awake, not sure of where she was. It took her a few minutes to let her eyes adjust to the dim light, seeing Peter relaxed in his chair but still awake, still guarding. He nodded at her, giving her a sympathetic grin. She had no idea how to convince him she _wanted _to leave with Sylar whenever he came back for her.

"Peter," she said softly, sitting up, "when Sylar comes back-"

"you don't even have to worry about that," he cut across her, not moving.

"No! Listen to me; you have to listen now, because you won't believe it's me talking, once he's here." Peter's brow furrowed, his arms crossed his chest, but he nodded for her to continue. "When he comes back, I'm going with him."

"That's-"

"I'm going." She glared at him, teeth gritted.

"Why?"

"He's different; he helped me."

"He raped you! I saw it."

"Then I raped him, too, because no one in that room could control what was happening."

"No, Claire, that's-"

"The truth; that's what it is. And you know it; like you said, you were there."

They glared at each other briefly before Peter gave out.

"Fine. So you're just going to run off with him and live happily ever after?"

"Don't be stupid. We're going after my dad; he has to be stopped. And I'm the only one that wants to do it without killing him."

"And Sylar's gonna help you? He's going to protect Noah?"

"Yes." She climbed off the bed and held Peter's hand. "He's changed, Peter; I've seen it."

"He's a good guy now?"

"Good? I dunno, maybe. I think he's somewhere a little shadier than that. But he's not evil, not anymore. Remember, I told you what he said, what he wanted from me? And there I was, trapped, and forced to enjoy it. But, he didn't- He never-" She cleared her throat. "He could have done whatever he wanted to me; but he was a gentleman. Don't you raise your eyebrows at me! It's true. Once you get passed the…nastiness of Sylar, Gabriel's a decent guy."

"Gabriel," he challenged her.

"It _is _his name," she quipped.

Peter took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead. "You're not going to listen to anything I say, are you?"

"Nope."

"Then let me come with you. I can help."

"You won't do anything all…devious?"

"Of course not." He looked genuinely offended.

"Promise?"

"Yes. I just want to be certain you and Noah get out of there safe. Wherever 'there' is. "

"I don't know where, but Sylar does."

An alarm sounded overhead and Peter jumped to his feet. "Speak of the devil."

She scowled at his phrasing, but followed him upstairs to the roof.

"Just stay back," Matt warned, aiming his gun at Sylar's face.

"Get out of my way, Parkman."

"That's not going to happen; leave." He turned his head slightly and stared hard at Sylar, who smirked back.

"That aint gonna work. I have no interest whatsoever in China. But, I'll play nice; call for Claire. I'll stay here."

"And I'm supposed to _believe_ that?" He forced a laugh.

"It's alright," Claire called, jumping the last step, "I'm already here."

Her eyes swept the roof, taking in all the contained violence. Parkman stood directly in front of her, gun trained on Sylar, even though it was pointless to shoot him. Two more men were off to the left, hands out, as if prepared to use their abilities. A woman crouched alone, across from Matt, fingers on her temples. Another pair, man and woman, were on the right, just huddling. And in the center of them all, stood Sylar. His hands loose at his sides, head cocked, smirking at them all.

And then, his eyes fell on her and he smiled, a true smile. Claire grinned and walked towards him. Without hesitation, he moved in her direction, and the bullet caught him in the throat. Gagging, he fell to his knees, glaring at the former policeman.

"Sylar!" She ran to him, but Matt caught her around the waist. "What the hell are you doing? Let go of me!"

"You're…not…thinking…straight," he grunted, struggling to control her.

"Let me go!" she screeched, elbowing him in the nose. Once her feet hit pavement, she sprinted to the fallen Sylar, putting a hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to wake. The soft clatter let her know the bullet had been expelled; Sylar coughed, pushing himself up to a sitting position. "You okay?"

"Of course. My 'spot' is in a less obvious place." He held up a hand and the gun flew into it. "That wasn't nice."

"Hey, let's everyone calm down here," Peter interrupted, stepping between them.

"I am perfectly calm," Sylar assured them, making Matt fly against a nearby wall. His nose flared, his hands fisted, and his eyebrows scrunched.

"Sylar," Claire whispered close to his ear. "Please don't." He closed his eyes and his hands shook, but still he held Parkman pinned. "He was only trying to protect me. He just didn't realize you're the security, not the threat."

He took a deep, shaky breath and let the man fall to the ground.

"Whoever's trying to force me to walk off the edge, needs to stop. Now," he growled.

"It's her! Peter, stop her before he loses control."

"I'm on it," he grunted, jogging to the crouching woman.

Claire couldn't hear his words, but knew they had worked when Sylar's body relaxed. She ran a hand across his forehead.

"Better?"

"Infinitely," he whispered, taking her hand and kissing the palm. "We should go." He stood, pulling her up with him.

"Peter wants to come with us. Obviously, he doesn't truest you. _But,_ he's promised nothing covert and he's good to his word."

"Good old Uncle Pete," he grumbled. "We're leaving now; keep up." He grabbed her up and rocketed them into the sky.

"I will," Peter promised, launching after them.

**A/N: Happy Yule! Happy Holidays everyone! Thanks for hanging in there with me on this one, we're finally getting there . You rock!**


	20. Her Choice

Claire held tight to Sylar as they zoomed through the sky. She kept an eye on Peter chasing after them, he seemed to be keeping pace easily enough.

"How far?"

"Another twenty minutes."

Claire sighed, bored. She settled for taking the opportunity to study his face up-close. He was a handsome guy, with his heavy brows, large puppy-dog eyes, and sweet, kissable lips. She leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, making him lose momentary concentration and dip low in the sky.

"Sorry," she lied.

Sylar gave her an odd look, but didn't respond, except to bring them back to the proper altitude.

"So, what happens when we get there?"

"Lots of action."

They flew silently on, until at last they landed on the roof of an old school in the middle of nowhere. "Stay low, stay close."

She hunkered down, sticking close to his heels, Peter right behind her. They hurried through the roof access and stopped suddenly. She could barely see in the dim light, but there was no missing the two men who flew through the air passed them, crumpling against a wall.

Their line crept forward again, stopping every so often so Sylar could discharge guards in their way. Finally, they reached a door that Sylar found interesting. Holding a hand up to them, he slowly straightened so he could peek through the window.

He gestured for them to move with their backs against the wall. He took a deep breath, ran a finger down Claire's cheek, and put on his cold, emotionless mask. "Stay."

"Noah," Sylar announced, flinging the door open and strolling into the packed room.

"Sylar," Noah and Charlie hissed at the same time.

"Hello Charlie. Making friends?" Noah's gu8n stayed locked on the younger man.

"Where is she? Where's Claire?" Noah snarled.

"Come with me and I'll show you." He pushed his palm out at two men who charged towards him, flinging them into the far wall.

"What did you do to her?" His gun shifted to Sylar.

"She's safe. Now, now, Charlie, that isn't polite." He barely stopped him before he shot a fireball at Noah. "Come with me; Claire isn't far."

"As if I would ever trust you!" He squeezed the trigger.

"Dad! No!" Claire shouted from the hallway, where she had been waging a silent war with Peter.

She heard Sylar groan, but not from the bullet that spun, suspended in the air in front of him. "Peter," he growled.

"What was I supposed to do? Gag her?"

"Claire-Bear?" Noah lost focus and dropped the gun as a carnie tackled him from behind.

Sylar sent the bullet into the man's thick chest, turning his attention to three men firing various elements at him.

Peter shot lightening at a man and woman running at him, dropping them instantly with screams of pain.

Claire ducked as a jet of scalding water flew at her head. Hands grabbed her roughly from behind, hauling her to her feet.

"Quiet Claire-Bear," Charlie whispered in her ear, hand clamped firmly over her mouth. "Let's go." He drug her backwards toward the door.

She fought as hard as she could, elbowing him as hard as possible. But, it was difficult to get any power in the moves, when she couldn't keep her feet under her.

Just as they reached the door, she wiggled enough that his hand loosened on her mouth. She took the opportunity to bite down hard on the flesh.

"Ah! Bitch!" He slapped her hard across the face.

"Sylar!" she screamed as Charlie wrestled her back under his control.

"Peter!" Sylar yelled, raising a hand at Charlie, but large arms clasped around him, pinning his hands to his side.

"I don't think so, Daddy," Charlie laughed, aiming the gun at Noah.

Claire screamed, twisting free. Peter shot electricity at Charlie, frying him extra crispy.

As if everything were happening in slow motion, Sylar saw the desperation on Claire's face as the gun fired. He threw his head back, breaking the man's nose and his grip. He dived forwards, knocking Noah to the floor. But, everything went black.

"Sylar? Sylar!" Claire ran to them, where they both lay, not moving. "Dad? Oh God, please? Please?" She knelt beside them, trying to find the source of all the blood. She wasn't even aware of Peter dispatching the last two carnies.

Noah groaned and sat up, rolling Sylar's limp body off of him.

"Dad! Are you okay? Sylar?" She shook his bloody shoulder. "Wake up! Please, wake up." Tears were pooling in her eyes.

"I don't understand," Noah moaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Peter! Peter, help me. We have to find that bullet. It must have hit his shut off."

Desperate, she ran shaking hands over his bloody torso.

"Get his shirt off," Peter instructed, calmly. "Move Noah."

"Why are you helping him?" Noah asked, pulling Claire away.

"Let go!" She struggled and punched him hard in the cheek, returning to her lover's side.

"He just saved your life," Peter answered, wiping away the blood to find the source. "And he saved your daughter, too. If you won't help, then just stay out of the way."

"Have you lost your minds? This is Sylar!" He held his bruised cheek. "He killed Nathan."

"What about you?" Claire accused, satisfied that Peter was expertly extracting the bullet. "You're trying to make a super baby. Kidnapping women and inseminating them!"

"What?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Samuel told me."

"And you believed him?"

"No. I believed Sylar."

":He's waking up," Peter announced. "Where are the women?"

"Hidden."

"Not anymore. Let's go. You're taking me to them and we're letting them go home."

"That's not going to happen."

"You have Emma!" Peter challenged.

"Sylar?" Claire whispered when he drew breath again.

"Thanks," he said softly.

"Thank Peter; I panicked." She helped him stand up.

"Where is she?" Peter screamed, lightening crackling in his palms.

"No," Noah said, shaking his head.

"I'll take you, Peter," Sylar cut across them.

"No. No!" Noah yelled, raising his recovered gun. "I know where your spot is now." He smirked.

Claire moved in front of Sylar, placing her head directly in the way. "You have to stop, Dad. It's wrong!"

"It's not that simple! If I can make it-"

"It? The baby is an 'it'?"

"Claire, you don't understand the things we could accomplish."

"We're freeing those women," Claire decided. "We're taking down this whole operation. And if you get in the way, we'll treat you like the rest of the bad guys." She kicked Charlie's blackened body for effect. "Goodbye Dad."

"Claire! That's enough. You can't choose them over me."

"I already did."

She held Sylar's hand and led the way out.

**The End.**

**Thank you to everybody who read this! And especially those who reviewed and nagged and kept me motivated! One last review please? **


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